Run Away With Me
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: When the war is over and the dust settles, two unlikely friends flee to start a new life.
1. Chapter 1

Something new, as promised! I own nothing, but I will soon!

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Prologue

The war was over. After seven years of battling and risking her life, Hermione Granger was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. The wizarding world was safe, at least for the time being. So many had lost their lives or suffered injuries, but Hermione was one of the lucky ones; a few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise unharmed.

A small clearing by the Black Lake was free of signs of the recent battle. Taking a seat in the grass, she stared at the calm water and assessed her injuries. A few healing charms later, and she was good as new. If only they could erase the memories of the horrors she had witnessed.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Slowly, she turned her head, surprised by who stood behind her. "I'm more surprised to see you without an Auror escort," she remarked.

Draco Malfoy, tall, proud, pureblooded, laughed as he sat down beside her. A friendship of sorts had formed between the pair during their sixth year. Branded and tasked with killing the headmaster, he had begun to confide in Hermione during their long nights in the library. The life of a Death Eater wasn't one he wanted, but despite her efforts to convince him to join her side, he couldn't. His parents' lives were on the line, and abandoning their cause meant their deaths.

"Believe me, I'm just as shocked as you are," he remarked, running his hand through his blond locks. "I'm sure I'm a wanted man."

The thought sent a chill down her spine, one Draco mistook for the cold, night air. He wrapped his arm around her in order to provide some warmth. Hermione relaxed against his side, wondering if she would ever get the opportunity to do so again. "You know I'll do whatever I can to help you," she murmured.

"What if you can't?" he wondered. "I've done...a lot of things that I'm not proud of, things I won't tell you about because I know you'll hate me if I do."

"Did you kill anyone?" she asked. Draco shook his head, but admitted that he had been forced to torture a muggle girl no older than eleven. "See, you use that word - _forced_. I know you, Draco, and I know you didn't want to do it. I can't hate you for that."

They sat in silence, wrapped in a tender embrace. "Run away with me," he suggested, tightening his hold on her. "We'll start over somewhere else, someplace where no one knows who we are and what we've done."

"Where would we go?" she asked, entertaining the idea, but not committing to it. It was insane. There was no way she could leave her life behind to run off with Draco Malfoy.

Taking a deep breath, he shrugged. "I don't know. Anywhere," he replied. "Anywhere you want to go. We'll go there together."

"I have to find my parents," she told him. "I sent them to Australia, memories wiped clean and new ones implanted. They have no idea what I've been doing for the last year. They have no idea that I even exist. Right now, they could be sitting on a beach, having the time of their life."

Letting her go, Draco laid down and placed an arm beneath his head. He stared at the night sky, dark but for a few twinkling stars. The castle lights didn't reach far enough to illuminate the lake, and wand light was needed to see the pair. With a gentle tug on her sleeve, he beckoned Hermione to do the same, and she laid her head to rest on his shoulder. "There's something you need to know," he said, holding her close, fearful that she might run. "They got them. Once You Know Who realized that the three of you were gone, he went after your parents. There was no way they could defend themselves against magic. I'm so, _so_ sorry, Hermione."

She nodded, hiding her face, but not her tears, from Draco. They soaked through his shirt, but he said nothing about it. "Every night since I was twelve years old, I've gone to sleep and seen the horrible things I've lived through," she said as her sobs abated. "Their deaths are one more thing I've done wrong. I can't escape it."

True as it was that they could not outrun their memories, Draco wanted an out. He yearned for a new life now that the fighting had ceased. In England, he would forever be branded a Death Eater, but there were countries where Death Eater didn't carry the same stigma. He could leave the only home he had ever known and start over elsewhere.

"We might not be able to outrun our memories, but we could get away from the press and our reputations," he pointed out. "We could have very peaceful lives someplace else."

That appealed greatly to Hermione. It was possible for her to live out of Harry's shadow or only be seen as the brains behind the Golden Trio. Perhaps a small amount of peace was better than none. "Let's go," she decided, sitting up. Even in the darkness, she could make out his gray eyes and strong jaw. Leaning down, she kissed him softly for the first time. She didn't know if their paths would diverge, and wanted to make sure she kissed him at least once before they did.

"What was that for?" he wondered, his hand tangled in her wild hair.

"I didn't want you to leave without getting to do that first," she replied, blushing.

Draco pressed his lips to hers. "I'm not going without you," he whispered.

Pulling away, she sat back on her heels and bit the lip he had just kissed. "I've been thinking," she said. "I like this idea of getting away from here. What if we could do something about our memories though?" Draco sat up, skepticism in his eyes. "The spell I used on my parents, we could do the same."

"Wouldn't we forget each other?" he wondered.

But Hermione assured him they wouldn't. "The spell is selective," she explained. "All we would need to do is obliviate certain memories and replace them with new ones. We could have happy lives with no memory of war and death and destruction."

His eyes fell to his left arm and the Dark Mark that was indelibly etched in his skin. "What about this?" he wondered. "It'll always be there."

"So will this," she replied, revealed the cruelly carved mudblood on her right arm. "We'll still have magic. We'll still know what these things mean. We just won't remember the bad things."

Frowning, he held her arm and traced the letters with the tip of his wand. Suddenly, the brand was gone. He rubbed the soft skin of her arm and allowed himself to smile. "Hermione, I don't want to be a wizard anymore," he confessed. "Let my last bit of magic be for something good."

"You'll still have to obliviate me," she reminded him.

Nodding, they worked out the memories that would be implanted before wands were lifted.

"_Obliviate!_"


	2. Chapter 2

I'm floored by the response the prologue received! Thank you so so much! I'm a really good mood, hence the exclamation points. Today I discovered gluten free goldfish, which were one of the only things I've missed since finding out I have Celiac's. It really doesn't take much to make me happy.

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Chapter 1

In a small New England town, a young couple resided in a small home. They had lived there for half a decade, leaving England for a quieter life. They made friends with their neighbors, took in the history their new state had to offer, and settled into their new lives easily.

Mrs. Bradbury, a middle-aged woman who lived next door, waited on their front porch. Excitement lit her dark eyes as the couple approached. Hermione Malfoy cradled a newborn in her arms, and Charlotte Bradbury was anxious to meet the newest addition to the family. "Let me see! Let me see!" she exclaimed, meeting them on the lawn.

Draco Malfoy grinned as he escorted his wife and neighbor inside. Hermione sat as her husband lifted their newborn son from her arms. "Mrs. Bradbury, meet Liam," he said softly as he laid his son in her arms. While she gushed, Draco sat beside his wife and held his three year old daughter, Clara.

"Are we keeping it, Daddy?" Clara inquired, nose wrinkling, as Liam began to fuss.

"_Him_," Hermione corrected, tucking a brown curl behind her daughter's ear, "and yes, we are."

Gray eyes rolled as Clara dismounted her father's lap and crossed the small space to stand before Mrs. Bradbury. "Nana, my turn?" she asked, climbing onto the couch.

The couple had no family to speak of, and so the town had adopted them. Mrs. Bradbury, widowed at too young an age and with no children of her own, became a surrogate mother and grandmother to the Malfoys. Mr. Johnson, who owned the town market, had taken a shine to Draco, gave him a job and assisted with any handiwork that needed to be done around their house. Countless others had welcomed the young couple when they first arrived in the small Connecticut town, and the support they offered was astounding.

Charlotte looked to the new parents, who nodded their approval, and helped Clara support her new baby brother. "I don't know why he's so little," Clara said dumbfoundedly.

"You were that little too," Mrs. Bradbury informed her, holding Liam once more when Clara grew bored with the task. "I remember when your mommy and daddy brought you home. In fact, you were smaller than Liam is. And oh, could you cry! I thought you would be such an unhappy baby, but then you'd laugh." To demonstrate, she tickled the little girl, causing Clara to giggle loudly. "See, you're still my happy baby."

Draco laughed; only the older woman could get away with calling Clara a baby. After all, to a three year old, that age made her an adult, and Clara demanded to be treated as such. She eyed her new brother with disdain when his fussiness turned into a fit. Hermione relieved Mrs. Bradbury and left the room to feed her son.

Her mother's seat now vacant, Clara sat beside Draco. "Are you gonna be too busy to make me take a nap?" she inquired.

Laughing, he stood and picked her up quickly. "Say goodbye to Nana," he instructed. Leaning forward, her face twisted in disappointment, Clara kissed her surrogate grandmother's cheek. She was carried to her bedroom where Draco dropped her on her bed, causing her to bounce on the mattress. "Okay, missy, under the blankets. What story would you like to hear?"

Climbing beneath the blankets, she fanned her long hair on the pillow. "I wanna know why you love Mommy," she decided.

Smiling, Draco sat down by her side. "Well, now that's my favorite story," he remarked. Leaning back, he waited for her to settle in before telling the story of Hermione's and his romance. "It began when we were eleven..."

The memories they had implanted after the war changed their history. The couple believed themselves to be childhood sweethearts who met on their first day at a new boarding school. A fast friendship had formed between the preteens, and love bloomed by the age of sixteen. They were inseparable, and upon graduating from secondary school, Draco proposed.

"It was the prettiest wedding you've ever seen," he recalled. "Mummy was more beautiful than any other bride who ever lived."

"Like a princess?" Clara asked through a yawn.

Smiling, he replied, "Prettier." They came to America a few days after the war, and married in the garden of the home they had bought just months later. Neither remembered that magic was ever a part of their lives, but both knew how to get along without it. It was his family's fortune that supported them in the early days. Though his parents had passed on, they left their possessions to their only son.

"Do you only love Mommy because she's pretty?" the little girl wondered.

"No, baby," he promised. "I love her because she loves me. She makes me laugh. She makes me happy. I look forward to seeing her everyday when I get home from work. I can tell your mum anything, and I know she'll still love me. But most of all, I love her because she gave me you."

Clara smile and yawned again, her gray eyes closing. "I like that reason," she murmured.

Rising, he kissed her forehead and tucked the blankets around her. "I knew you would," he whispered. "Sleep tight, my sweet little lovebug."

"I heard what you said," Hermione informed him when they met outside Clara's door. Draco's only response was a kiss. "I have questions. Do you love that I'm pretty?"

Draco laughed as he led her downstairs. "I think you're beautiful," he told her. "And yes, I love getting to look at you. What's your next question?"

"Are you as infatuated with your son as you were when your daughter was born?" she wondered.

He couldn't help but let his grin grow as he nodded his head. "Yes, but I'm not going to tell her that," he replied. "I never want her to feel replaced, or think that having a baby means we love her any less."

"You keep that up, and she'll never feel that way," Charlotte interjected. "I'll come over with dinner when Clary's awake. Thank you for letting me hold your precious boy."

Hermione hugged her, thankful for all she had done for them. From cooking to watching Clara while they were in the hospital, Charlotte was their savior. She always seemed more than happy to do it. The Malfoys were her family, and she loved them.

But Charlotte Bradbury had a secret. She was a witch, descended from a long line of magic that dated back to the days of the Salem witch trials. Her magic was used as often as the Malfoys', and that was to say almost never. Living amongst muggles meant keeping her powers hidden, even from the young couple who lived next door.

A greater secret than her magic, though, was that she had contacts in wizarding Britain. One of those contacts was Harry Potter.


	3. Chapter 3

Some people seemed really jazzed by the name Bradbury, and I'm confused. The google wasn't much help, although I do now know that a lot of Mrs. Bradburys teach the 5th grade. Help a girl out?

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Chapter 2

Harry Potter had begun receiving correspondence from an old woman claiming to know the whereabouts of Hermione and Draco. He didn't trust the reliability of his source, and so, he remained in England. There was an outstanding warrant for Draco's arrest, but Harry had bigger problems to solve. Was this Charlotte Bradbury trustworthy, or was she just looking for a little reward money? If she were as close to the young pair as she claimed, why would she sell them out to the Aurors' office?

The latest letter had come early that morning. From it, he learned that Hermione had given birth for the second time. Dread settled like a lead balloon in his stomach. Malfoy must have had her under a spell. It wasn't like Hermione to abandon her friends, the people she loved, to run off with a Death Eater. That she had married and had children with him fueled his theory.

"What's that?" Ron asked, sitting down in front of Harry's desk.

The Head Auror quickly snapped to attention and attempted to hide the letter. "Nothing," he said quickly. The redhead smirked; a look that told Harry his answer wasn't one to be believed. Sighing, he placed the parchment on his desk for Ron to read. "I think I know where Hermione and Malfoy are."

"You trust this woman?" Ron wondered, his scowl deepening the further he read. "Why would Hermione be with the ferret?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know," he said in response to both questions. Ron had carried a torch for their missing friend for years. In the midst of battle, they shared their first kiss, and Ron had been sure that meant she returned his feelings. Reading Charlotte Bradbury's letter seemed to deflate his best friend. "What do you think?"

Sighing heavily, Ron discarded the letter and rubbed his blue eyes. "I think if she were in trouble, she would have gotten word to us by now," he replied. "It's been five years, Harry. Arrest Malfoy if you want, but maybe it's better to just let Mione be."

"They're married," Harry informed him. "We can't go after Malfoy without disrupting Hermione."

"Then leave them both alone," Ron advised. "He was never a real threat anyway, and if they are in the States, he's definitely not a threat to us."

But Harry was less confident. "What if she's there against her will?" he suggested. "He could have used any number of spells or potions to kidnap her and hold her prisoner in a foreign country. You really want to leave her there with him?"

"It's Malfoy. We both know Hermione could take him," Ron said with a hearty laugh. "You haven't considered the fact that maybe she went willingly."

Dark brows rose. "So, you're okay with giving up on her?" Harry asked incredulously. "We have a lead, and you don't want to pursue it? You could have her back."

Sighing, Ron shook his head. He had given up on that dream years earlier when Hermione never returned home. "I want answers too," he admitted, "but she's with Malfoy now. They have a family. There's no winning her back."

"But what if she is under a spell?" Harry inquired exasperatedly.

Getting to his feet, Ron picked up the letter once more. "I'm not going to get my hopes up that she is," he replied. "I don't think you should either."

Harry didn't want to believe that Hermione had spent five years in a strange muggle town against her will. It was difficult to comprehend that the strong, confident, capable witch would abandon them so quickly after the fighting ended. That she would do so with Draco Malfoy by her side was even harder to fathom.

"I'm going to Connecticut," he declared as Ron's hand closed around the doorknob. "Are you coming with me?"

Broad shoulders slumped. A reluctant nod was the only reply Harry received before Ron left.

It took a good amount of arm twisting and pleading to be allowed to go to the United States, but Harry and Ron were granted permission for a three day trip. They were to bring Malfoy back unharmed, and he would stand trial for crimes committed in Lord Voldemort's service. They portkeyed to the U.S. Ministry of Magic, and from there, were given permits to work and Apparate within the country.

"I don't like this," Ron said as they approached the informant's house. "Lots of people have claimed to see the two of them. Why do you trust this one?"

"No one else ever claimed to see them together," Harry pointed out.

Ron eyed him warily. "That should make her less trustworthy," he muttered.

The pair slowly proceeded up a stone walkway and stopped on a porch filled with potted plants and flowers. The house was small, but looked cozy. Ron rang the doorbell, but Harry's gaze fell upon the house next door. He wondered if it belonged to Draco and Hermione. It was small and well maintained despite the children's toys that littered the lawn; not a place he expected Draco Malfoy to live.

The front door opened. Frizzy gray hair belonging to a stout woman with wide green eyes greeted them. Hurriedly, she removed the stained apron she wore. "Come in, come in," she said excitedly, recognizing the pair instantly. There wasn't a witch or wizard alive who didn't recognize Harry Potter.

The pair entered the small, cluttered home. Knick knacks, picture frames, old magazines and newspapers, and more plants occupied the living room. "Reminds me of Mum and Dad's," Ron whispered to his friend, who nodded in agreement. He surveyed the mess, and picked up a framed photo of a little girl with hair like Hermione's, eyes like Draco's, and a smile all her own. "Your granddaughter?" he asked as Mrs. Bradbury instructed them to take a seat.

"Something like that," she replied, magicking a plate of cookies to the coffee table. "That's Clara, the Malfoys' little girl. Looks like her mother, doesn't she? I don't have a picture of Liam yet. Hermione's a photographer, you know. He's keeping her too busy to develop anything new though."

Both boys nodded. "So, you know that there's a reward for Draco Malfoy's capture," Harry stated. "What I don't understand is why, if you're close to them, would you tell England's Head Auror of his whereabouts?"

Charlotte fidgeted nervously with her hands. She never intended to get the young couple in trouble. "They don't know that I'm a witch," she confessed. "I recognized Hermione right away. Your pictures were plastered across the papers here too. Our wizarding community isn't large here, maybe a handful in this state. New York is where you go if you want to be a part of things. Anyhow, about a month or so ago, I saw an article about the anniversary of the final battle, and they mentioned the three of you. You, Harry, were quoted as saying that you hadn't given up your search for her. That's why I wrote. I thought you would want to see her again."

"I do," he murmured. "Would you mind taking us to see her?"

Charlotte adamantly shook her head. "No, not if you intend to arrest Draco," she stated. "I won't see that family torn apart."


	4. Chapter 4

Normally, I would post this chapter tomorrow, but I have a wedding to attend. Thanks for the Bradbury clarification! I've never read Ray Bradbury's work, so he in no way inspired the name. Now I wish I were smarter, and could say that he did.

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Chapter 3

"I saw you had company yesterday," Hermione commented as she fed Liam while Charlotte folded laundry. "Two strapping young lads. A secret romance, perhaps?"

A nervous chuckle preceded her response. "No, no, just...tourists," Charlotte said. "My life has never been scandalous enough to catch the attention of two twenty-somethings, no matter how good looking they might be."

"They certainly were handsome," Hermione agreed. Draco entered the living room, Clara on his back, with a questioning look on his face. "Not nearly as handsome as my husband though. Only man I have eyes for is Draco."

He smirked and leaned down to kiss her. "You always have the right answer," he murmured. "So, these tourists - did you suggest they stay around for the apple festival? Hermione made fifteen pies last week, desperately trying to perfect her recipe."

"We had pie for dinner when Mommy was having Liam," Clara added. Draco winced as Hermione shot him a pointed glare. "Daddy said it was healthy."

Try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "I was wondering what happened to them when we got home," she commented. Draco set Clara down, and she stood by her mother's side. "Daddy told me elves ate them."

"I'm an elf?" the little girl asked, horrified.

Draco bent to her height and ran his fingers through her hair. "What's wrong with being an elf?" he wondered. "Who do you think makes your Christmas presents? The elves do. But you don't have pointy ears, so if you're worried, I think you're safe."

Clara breathed a sigh of relief as she climbed onto her father's back once more. She was a princess and he was her horse, and Draco galloped off to continue their game. Charlotte watched as father and daughter played happily. "I envy you," she said softly.

Hermione moved Liam to her shoulder and rubbed his back. "Why?" she wondered.

"I loved my husband," Charlotte said. "We were young, like the two of you, when we married. We met at a school in Maine. He was a year older than me, and the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. We were only in our mid-thirties when Adam passed away. He'd been hit by a drunk driver, coming home from work one night. For years, we put off starting a family because money was tight. By the time we were ready to try, he was gone."

Standing, Hermione moved to the sofa where Charlotte sat, and offered her newborn to her. "You have a family here," she promised. "You always will. I know we're not your children, and thank goodness for that because Draco and I are married, but you have been like a mother to both of us. Honestly, I don't know where I'd be without you. Clara would be a mess, that's for sure."

Charlotte fondly recalled the Malfoys' struggle to give an infant Clara a bath for the first time. Draco was soaking wet, Hermione was at her wit's end, and Clara screamed bloody murder. She had come to the house after the Malfoys' mail was delivered to her by mistake, but the couple was happy to allow her to step in and help.

"You would have been fine, with or without me," Charlotte assured her. "These babies are lucky to have two wonderful parents."

Though she knew she should accept the compliment and move on, Hermione worried that something was wrong. It was in Mrs. Bradbury's nature to speak only the kindest words, but there seemed to be something hidden beneath the surface, a sense of melancholy that bothered the young mother.

"If something were wrong, you'd tell me, right?" Hermione asked as her brow furrowed deeply.

Smiling, Charlotte nodded. "Sometimes I just get a little too nostalgic for my own good," she replied. "It's one of the perils of old age. Anyhow, I should be getting home."

Holding Liam again, Hermione rose and led her to the door. She watched, worry etched in her features, as Charlotte crossed the lawn to her house. Draco joined her as she closed the door. "Something is going on with her," she said, glad that Clara wasn't with him. They moved to the front window for a better look at their neighbor. "Those men are back."

"Should we go over there?" Draco wondered. "I'd hate to think she's in trouble."

Hermione eyed the men warily. The tall redhead seemed laid back enough, but his partner with the dark hair and rounded glasses was more intense. If there was trouble, it was at the shorter boy's hand. "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't think I trust them," she replied. "I just...there's this feeling in the pit of my stomach that says they're bad news."

His mind made up, Draco marched to the door. "I'm going over," he declared, despite his wife's efforts to keep him from doing so. He marched across their lawn, and stomped up the porch steps. "Afternoon, gentlemen. Something the matter?"

The bespectacled man turned, frowning when he spotted Draco behind him. He seemed to recognize neither of them, and that worried Harry. The redhead clamped a hand down on his shoulder and smiled. "No problem here," he replied. "Just needed directions. We'll be going now."

There was an urgency in his voice, but the raven haired man paid it no mind. "You must be Draco Malfoy," he said, holding out his hand. "Harry Potter."

Draco accepted and shook his hand. "Just passing through town?" he inquired. Harry Potter nodded while his friend sighed impatiently. "Well, we'll be here a couple more days. We have business to attend to."

There were questions that Draco wanted to ask, but the redhead who introduced himself as Ron Weasley said it was time to go. The pair left then without a word, leaving Draco and Mrs. Bradbury alone. "What's going on?" he wondered. "Those two were here yesterday too. You'd tell me if they're giving you trouble, right?"

"They just needed directions," she replied.

Draco's brows rose dubiously. "Two days in a row?" he asked. "The town isn't big enough to get lost in. I don't like them coming around and bothering you like this. Why don't you stay at the house tonight?"

"I don't need protecting," Charlotte replied defiantly. "Those boys are no trouble. Besides, you heard them - they'll be gone soon. I'm fine, Draco."

He knew to back off, and returned home. Hermione waited by the door, anxiously awaiting answers. Shaking his head, he sat down on the sofa. Minutes passed before she implored him to tell her what happened on Mrs. Bradbury's porch. "I think you're right not to trust those two," he said, carefully choosing his words. "I don't know why they've been harassing her, but I'm calling the cops if they show up again."

"Was Mrs. Bradbury upset?" Hermione asked, taking a seat beside him.

Again, he shook his head. "That's the thing - she wasn't upset, but she didn't treat them the way she usually would if a stranger showed up on her porch," he replied. Charlotte Bradbury was jovial and welcoming, willing to help any who asked. "With them, she seemed cagey. I'm worried about her, love."


	5. Chapter 5

Can I just say that I'm floored by the response the story has gotten so far? It really does mean the world to me that you like it!

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Chapter 4

Clara skipped beside Hermione while holding her hand. Since Liam's birth, she had spent little one-on-one time with her mother, and she revelled in a day spent just the two of them. The little girl chatted rapidly as they entered an ice cream parlor and sat down. "And then Daddy, Daddy's so funny," Clara was saying, "he laughed even though Li-Li tinkled on him."

Hermione smiled as she listened to her daughter's tales. "Daddy's never had much luck with diapers," she replied. "Boys are a bit more difficult too. Better, or worse, aim."

They ordered vanilla sundaes with hot fudge, and Clara quickly changed the subject to her favorite dress up outfits. Footsteps approached the table, and Hermione looked up with a smile, expecting their dessert. Instead, one of the men who had visited Charlotte stood by their table. "Mione," he said breathlessly.

"No, her name is Mommy," Clara interjected.

Hermione laughed softly and returned her attention to the stranger. "Sorry, do I know you?" she wondered.

She was more cordial than her husband had been, but Hermione's clueless act hurt worse than Draco's. "It's me, Harry," he said, pushing back his bangs to reveal the lightning scar on his forehead. "Hermione? Come on."

"Sorry," she replied as their ice cream was delivered. "Um, would you like to join us? I've seen you at our neighbor's house. Do you know Mrs. Bradbury well?"

Dejectedly, Harry shook his head. "I can't stay," he said. "I'd like to talk to you some time though. Would, um, would that be alright?"

"That depends," she replied. "Are you trying to pick me up? I'm married, you know. This is my daughter."

Green eyes widened. "No, I knew that," he assured her. "No, I wasn't hitting on you. I swear. Not that you're not pretty, I just knew you're married. And uh...so, I'll go now."

Hermione stopped him with a touch to the arm. "I was joking," she assured him. "Clara and I are having mummy/daughter time now, but I'm guessing you know where we live. Stop over later, and we'll talk."

Clara, whose mouth and chin were smeared with chocolate, eyed her mother suspiciously. "Daddy doesn't like him," she warned. "I don't want Daddy to be mad."

Hermione swiped her finger through the hot fudge on her sundae before putting a dot of it on her little girl's nose. "Daddy won't be mad," she promised. "Besides, how can you dislike someone if you don't know them?"

Wiping her nose, Clara shrugged and let the conversation end as she enjoyed her ice cream. But Hermione couldn't get the mysterious stranger off her mind. He seemed to show up very suddenly, and was attracted to both her family and Charlotte. It was unnerving that someone she had never met knew her name, and more than that, the nickname only her closest friends had ever used for her. He intrigued and confused her, and she wanted to know more.

"Mama, do you think Daddy misses us?" Clara asked, putting down her spoon.

Hermione smiled, knowing what the question meant - she was ready to go home. Clara often gravitated towards her father, though it never bothered Hermione. She herself was a self-described daddy's girl as a child. "I bet you a million bucks that he does," she replied. After paying, she picked up her daughter and they walked home.

Draco sat on the porch with Liam in his arms, and smiled when he spotted his wife and daughter. "You're all messy," he commented as they approached. Hermione set Clara on her feet, and the adults traded children. "Mummy's okay with this?"

"She did it," Clara insisted, licking her lips.

Draco shot his wife an accusatory look, but Hermione shrugged. "I only put the chocolate on her nose," she said. "Clary did the rest. While she washes her face, could we talk privately?"

He frowned, but agreed. Hermione fidgeted nervously as he paced the floors to lull Liam to sleep. "What's got you so twisted up in knots?" he wondered.

"I ran into someone at the ice cream parlor," she admitted, sharing with him her encounter with Harry Potter. "He said he knew me, but I don't know how that's possible. I just...I wish we had some answers for their recent appearance."

"Which is why you invited him over," Draco added. "You really think you'll get the answers you want?"

Shaking her head, Hermione shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "We've been here five years, and nothing like this has ever happened. People don't just show up here, harassing the neighbors and asking crazy questions. I can't help thinking that this is somehow our fault."

"How?" he wondered, sitting down beside her.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "It's just a feeling, one I can't shake."

He held her hand, silently assuring her that she wasn't alone. "We'll figure it out," he murmured. "Do you want me to stay with you when you talk to him? He didn't seem to like me much the other day, but maybe that was because I interrupted their conversation. Is he bringing Ron?"

"The redhead?" Hermione asked, receiving confirmation in the form of a name. "He didn't say. I didn't invite him. They weren't together when I saw him."

Draco nodded. "I think I'll stick around," he decided. "I'm not sure I like the idea of my wife being left alone with strange men. Who knows what kind of pain you might inflict on them."

Hermione grinned, knowing her husband had firsthand experience with her right hook. They had been children, no older than thirteen. He had been teasing her, trying to get her attention by making fun of one of her favorite teachers, when she hit him. "I'm still not sorry about that," she replied. "It's not nice to call someone a big, smelly, hairy oaf. Besides, he didn't deserve to be suspended. One little fire in the chemistry lab, and everyone's knickers are in a twist."

"He almost set me on fire," Draco pointed out.

"From halfway across the room?" she retorted.

He shrugged. "Fires spread," he replied, standing up. "And what kind of best friend punches someone for being concerned for his safety?"

Hermione followed him to their bedroom, where he laid Liam down in the bassinet by their bed. "The kind who never liked you," she said, biting her bottom lip. "I really didn't want you to find out this way. In fact, I'm thinking of running off with those two. They're pretty good looking."

He grabbed her around the waist and backed her up to the bed. "That had better be a joke," he muttered, pressing his lips to hers.

"You know you're the only man I've ever loved," she assured him, caressing his stubbled cheek. "And the only man I will ever love."

The bedroom door squeaked to reveal Clara. "I'm clean," she announced. "And someone's coming."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Harry stood alone on the Malfoys' front porch, too nervous to knock. That Hermione had denied knowing him was of great concern, more so than her marriage to Malfoy after the pair disappeared five years earlier. Her behavior only served as evidence that she was under a curse, one placed upon her by Malfoy.

When the door opened, he attempted to smile at the frowning couple. "How the hell did she do that?" he heard Malfoy mutter.

Hermione elbowed her husband's ribs. "Come in, Harry," she said cordially. She led him into the living room, offering him a seat. "So, what is it you wanted to discuss?"

Nerves gone, he observed the couple. They held hands, sat close, and looked happy. It was a baffling situation to examine. "I want to know why you left," Harry stated. "You told no one you were leaving. We searched for days for the both of you."

Draco frowned, eyebrows pinching together. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "We just met you."

"Bullshit, Malfoy," Harry spat. "We've known each other since we were eleven. You made life miserable for the three of us. I don't know what you've done to Hermione, but believe me, there will be repercussions."

The Malfoys exchanged a confused glance. "I'd like you to leave," Hermione said sternly. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I don't like it. You won't come into my home and accuse my husband of things that never happened. Now, get out."

"Mione, please," he begged. "Please just see reason. What I'm telling you is true. I've never lied to you before, and I'm not lying now."

"What proof do you have?" Hermione demanded. "You say we've known each other since we were children, but I have no memory of ever meeting you before last week. That you have the nerve to show up here and make wild accusations is astounding."

Harry huffed. "They're not accusations," he insisted. "Malfoy hexed you in fourth year and made your teeth grow to your chin. How do you explain them being smaller? Or the scar on your chin from where they cut you?"

"My parents are dentists," she stated. "It's not a complicated procedure. And I fell off my bike when I was five and scraped my chin. Draco had nothing to do with it."

"What about your arm?" he asked. "He stood by while his deranged aunt tortured you for an hour and carved up your arm."

Hermione rolled up her sleeves to reveal nothing but smooth, pale skin. A freckle spotted her arms here and there, but there was nothing out of the ordinary to be found. "Any other stories you'd like to tell?" Draco inquired.

"Yeah, let's see your arm," Harry said, reaching for Draco's left arm. But once again he was disappointed. The Dark Mark was gone. With Voldemort went his brands, and Draco's had disappeared completely just hours after the battle ended. This tactic was getting him nowhere. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I don't...I don't know what's going on here, but I'll get to the bottom of it. I swear to you I will."

Draco stepped in front of his wife as Harry reached for her. "There's nothing nefarious going on here," he stated. "This is a family - a happy, loving family. I won't listen to this anymore. I've never hurt my wife. I've never stood idly by while someone else hurt her. Not that she needs my protection, but if someone ever tried to hurt her, I'd be the first one to come to her defense."

"That might be true now, but five years ago it wasn't," Harry retorted. He planned to continue, but heard little footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw their daughter looking expectantly at him. "I should go."

Clara followed him, and when he stepped onto the porch, she yelled, "And don't come back!" before slamming the door as hard as she could. Turning, she smiled triumphantly at her parents. "Did you see me?" she asked.

"Good job, baby," Hermione replied. "Why don't you go play?" Reluctantly, Clara returned to her room.

"What the hell was that all about?" Draco wondered when they were once again alone. There were no answers she could offer. "He...he said I...but I wouldn't. You know I wouldn't. You're the only person in the world I ever cared about until the kids. Why would he say those things?"

Hermione held her husband close, just as confused as he was. She remembered her life clearly. She remembered her childhood, the school where she met Draco in Scotland, the day they met, their first kiss. She remembered the lake, not long after graduation, when he proposed and asked her to run away with him. They were gone as the sun arose, and a new life began.

"I don't care what he says," she told him. "All that matters to me is you and Clara and Liam. Whatever tall tales Harry Potter concocts mean nothing to me. I don't know why he would think such horrible things about you, but you know that I would never believe them."

Draco kissed the top of her head, but uttered no reply. There had been times he had teased her as children, but it had always been in good fun. His remarks were never malicious or intended to hurt her feelings, and Hermione had a penchant for dishing as well as she got. Oftentimes he was more upset by her words than she was by his. They never parted angrily though; both quick to apologize for their misdeeds.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled away and stood. "I think I'll go check on the kids," he mumbled.

With Draco out of sight, Hermione pulled back the corner of the throw rug and removed a slat from the floor. Hidden beneath the loose floorboard were the possessions she had on her when they arrived in America. A small beaded bag held more than it should, and amongst the items inside were two wooden sticks. She had no idea why she had kept them, but felt they needed to be hidden. Even now, she couldn't explain the need to see them. Shaking her head, she put the bag and sticks back and covered them with the board and rug.

0000000000

In a small inn on the other side of town, Harry sat down on his bed and sighed frustratedly. Ron waited patiently for news of his visit with the Malfoys. Minutes passed before Harry collected himself enough to speak. "What do you know about memory charms?" he wondered.

Red brows rose. "Not much," he confessed. "That was always Hermione's area of expertise. I do know that they're tricky to reverse. Even she was worried about how she would correct her parents' memories when the war was over. Is...is that what you think happened to them?"

Harry nodded. "I think Malfoy erased her memories, then his," he said. "It's gotta be some sick game for him."

"He wouldn't do that to himself," Ron replied. "He's hated her for a long time. He wouldn't erase their memories, marry her, and start a family. There's no way he would humiliate himself by being with a muggleborn. I think we need to look for a third person, someone else who would want their memories gone."

Lying back on his bed, the Boy Who Lived stared at the ceiling. He didn't believe that there was third party involved. What happened the night the pair disappeared was strictly between the two of them. Harry, though, wouldn't rest until he learned what those events were.


	7. Chapter 7

Happy Friday! That's it, that's all I have to say.

* * *

Chapter 6

Charlotte stood on the Malfoys' front porch with a plate of chocolate chip cookies in hand, hoping they would accept her contrition and welcome her back into the family. Tired and rundown, Draco opened the door and attempted to smile. Maternal instinct took over, and she cupped his cheek. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked.

With a sigh that turned into a yawn, he stepped back to allow her in. The cookies were set aside, forgotten now that she saw his haggard appearance. "Liam's not sleeping at night," he told her. "He kept us up most of the night. Hermione's sleeping. I had to force her to stay in bed. She's got some shoot lined up this afternoon, and I wanted her to be well rested."

"That's sweet of you," Charlotte remarked, watching Draco lift his son from the bassinet that formerly resided in the master bedroom. "Smart of you to take him with you too. I applaud your ability to get him out of the room without a fight."

For the first time, Draco smiled. "She made me compromise," he told her. "Clara's in bed with her. She said if I took one kid, she got the other. At least Clara sleeps."

"Small miracles," Charlotte murmured as Liam awoke with a cry. Draco groaned, but she was quick to calm him. "You could use your rest too. Let me take care of him."

Reluctantly, Draco agreed and sat down. His eyes closed as he inhaled, and opened again as he let out the breath. Charlotte rocked his son gently as she made her way to the kitchen for a bottle. A minute later, she returned and sat down beside him. "I heard shouting yesterday," she said calmly, holding the tip of the bottle to Liam's lips. "I'm sorry for allowing those two boys to come around. It didn't occur to me that they would cause so much trouble."

"I don't blame you," he replied, taking Liam from her when the baby wouldn't eat. He waited until his son took the bottle before speaking again. "It was just the one yesterday - Harry. The other one doesn't seem so bad. Doesn't seem to say much. Potter's quite loquacious though. He's got quite the imagination too."

Charlotte chuckled softly as she distracted herself by folding the laundry that Hermione had left out overnight. "You've never told tall tales?" she wondered.

"I've never slandered anyone," he shot back. "Well, never anyone I didn't know. I'll tell you this, I was mad at Hermione for inviting him over. In all the time we've known each other, I've never been mad at her. Something about that guy, though. He made me so angry."

Charlotte's hand caressed the fine blond hair atop the baby's head. "I'm sure she feels just as bad," she murmured. Chagrined, Draco agreed. "You've never lost your temper with her, not for as long as I've known the two of you. I know this will pass because the love you have for one another is so much stronger than any other feeling."

Draco set aside the bottle and shifted his baby boy to his shoulder. "You married young, right?" he asked. There was a fond, longing smile on Charlotte's lips as she nodded. "What was it like being so in love and losing him?"

"I don't know that we loved each other as much as you and Hermione do," she admitted. "Adam's passing was the most difficult thing I've lived through. You've both lost people you loved, but when it's the one person you're so in love with that you can't imagine living with them, that pain is a hundred-fold. I was sure I couldn't live without him, and then I just...did. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him or miss him or turn to tell him something I overheard that day, that's true enough, but you learn how to cope."

Once more, he shifted Liam to cradle him in his arms. "But it was worth it, right?" he asked. She nodded as she adjusted the little green bootie on the baby's foot. "I think so too. She didn't believe what Potter said, so I guess I've got that going for me."

Charlotte had heard the stories about the relationship the pair shared before coming to Connecticut. He was the stringent pureblood, she the poster girl for muggleborns. They were oil and water, unable and unwilling to mix. Somehow, it all changed. They never spoke of past animosity, choosing instead to portray themselves as best friends before the relationship evolved. It was something she could never asked about without outing her own secret.

"The two of you will have many, many years - decades - together," she assured him. "There will be happy years and sad days, and who knows, maybe more babies."

Draco smiled as he looked down at his sleeping newborn son. "I never thought I'd be a father," he shared. "I was an only child, and never got along well with other children. Hermione was the first friend I ever had. Even then, I never thought I'd want a family. Now...now I can't imagine there being anything better."

Beside him, Charlotte sniffled softly, but Draco heard it and quickly apologized. "Oh don't, sweetheart," she murmured. "I've been a mother. When two orphaned teenagers moved in next door to me, I got to experience being a mother. You and Hermione gave me that, and now you've been me the chance to be a grandma as well. I've never loved anyone as much as I love your family."

A tired-eyed Clara joined them and climbed quietly onto Mrs. Bradbury's lap. "You'll always have a place in this family," he vowed. His daughter snuggled against her and closed her eyes. "I don't think Clary could let you go."

"We'll see if she still feels this way in ten years," Charlotte joked. "By then, she'll hate us all because we just don't understand her feelings."

Draco chuckled softly, knowing that to be true. Even Hermione, the perfect daughter, had not managed to evade the trappings of her teenage years. Many nights were spent listening to her complain about her parents' incessant questioning of their friendship, insisting that boys and girls couldn't just be friends. "As long as she stays away from boys, I don't care if she hates me," he decided, knowing full well that he and his wife hadn't been able to remain just friends.

"Boys are yucky," Clara interjected, though her eyes remained shut.

"Remember that," Draco replied. He stood and gently laid Liam down in the bassinet. A lone figure, standing on his lawn, caught his eye. Clara awoke as he walked to the door, asking if she could go with him. He told her to stay with Nana, and disappeared. "You and your friend tag teaming us now?"

Ron Weasley, uncomfortable and nervous, lowered his head as he denied the allegation. "Came to apologize actually," he mumbled before saying that he was sorry for Harry's actions. "Look, I don't know what's going on. Maybe it's better that I don't. You two are happy, yeah?"

"Very," Draco said tersely.

The redhead nodded and stared at the lawn. "Good, good," he murmured. "You've got a nice family, and we have no right to interfere."

Draco shot him an incredulous look, but kept his retort at bay. "So, you two are leaving then?" he asked.

Ron smiled. "I have five brothers and a sister," he informed the man standing a good distance from him. "I know when I'm not wanted. Harry should know when he's not wanted, but he's got a bit of a savior complex. Plus, he's far more stubborn than I am. I'm sticking around only to keep him out of trouble, but I don't intend to bother you or Hermione anymore."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

"Why the hell would you tell him that?" Harry demanded.

Ron sighed as he sat down. He'd been listening to his best friend yell for half an hour, and he was growing tired of it. "This theory you have that their memories are gone," he interrupted, "what if that's for the best? They're happy together. Let it be, Harry."

"And our job?" Harry inquired. "I should let a Death Eater roam free because he might not remember what he's done? We have no proof that their memories are actually gone. This could all be an act."

Lying down, Ron shut his eyes and counted to ten in order to rein in his temper. When he felt calm, he spoke. "All we have are theories," he said. "Unless we somehow convince them to come back to England and get them to St. Mungo's, that's all we'll ever have. Harry, they've got kids. They've built a life here. Just let them have it."

"What happens if the memories do come back to them?" Harry wondered, feeling his anger deflate. "What happens to those kids when Mummy and Daddy hate each other again?"

"They'll remember the last five years. That won't change anything," Ron argued. "Whatever they think their lives were like before the war, they've had a long time to start liking each other We don't know what they think. All I know is they love each other, and we should stop interfering."

Harry sat down beside him, wanting desperately to believe that Ron was right. "She's our best friend," he murmured. "I just need to know that she's okay. For her sake and the kids, I will let this go."

Ron sat up, smiling, and clapped his friend on the back. "Good, then come to dinner," he suggested. "That Bradbury woman does a lot of their cooking, which is good if you remember just had bad Hermione was at it. Anyway, Draco invited me, and if you're on your best behavior, I'm sure I can finagle an invitation for you. The words 'I'm sorry' should probably come up before we sit down to eat though."

A blush stained Harry's cheeks red. "I doubt they would want me there," he mumbled. "The three year old hates me."

Laughing, the tall redhead got to his feet. "She's half Malfoy," he replied. "What did you expect?"

"For her to want to be friends with me in order to reach some higher goal or social standing, and to hate you for no reason other than being a Weasley," Harry said. Laughing, Ron threw a dirty shirt at his friend's face. "She's part Granger too, so maybe she doesn't completely hate me. Still doesn't mean it's a good idea if I come."

Ron exited the bathroom with a new shirt in hand. "So, you're going to make me go alone?" he asked, his eyes pleading and his lower lip pouting. "It's the Chamber of Secrets all over again, isn't it?"

Laughing, Harry vacated his friend's bed. "Wasn't I the one walking into danger that time?" he recalled. Ron scoffed; they had argued about this before. "Lockhart was no threat. The fifty foot tall basilisk was, and I defeated it. I win."

"Yeah, and then a bird saved your life," Ron muttered despite smiling. "Just get ready, would you?"

An hour later, they stood on the Malfoys' front porch. The pair were polar opposites. While Ron stood calmly and comfortably as he waited for the door to open, Harry sweated bullets. Hermione opened the door with a wary look in her eyes when she spotted them. "Um, Malf...Draco invited us," Harry said, his voice shaky.

"I know," she replied. "I didn't think you'd really show though. Come in."

Mrs. Bradbury smiled when they entered, but Clara, seated on her lap with a book, scowled. "He's not allowed," the little girl stated. "Mommy, make him go."

Hermione whispered her name harshly before instructing her to be polite. With a roll of her eyes, Clara dismounted her nana's lap and joined her father in the kitchen. "Sorry about her," Hermione murmured, embarrassed by her daughter's behavior. "Although, that apology will be rescinded if any wild accusations start flying."

"I swear they won't," Harry promised. Ron nudged him, earning a glare for his efforts. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have barged in here, saying what I said. I haven't really earned the right to have a second chance, but maybe I could have one anyway?"

That suspicious look returned to her eyes, but Hermione reluctantly nodded. "Just don't call me Mione," she stipulated. "I've always hated that nickname. I will admit that it's better than Hermie, but not by much."

Ron fought to keep his mirth at bay. "Hermie?" he asked, praying he would hear the story that accompanied the name.

"I learned the hard way that she hated that," Draco interjected, entering from the kitchen with his daughter on his shoulders. "Would you believe she poured juice in my lap?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she removed Clara from his back. "After a week of you incessantly calling me that," she said, keeping her voice sweet, but slightly menacing.

"You could have asked me to stop."

"And you would have listened?"

Charlotte laughed as the couple bickered. "It's always like this," she told the boys. They listened as the argument quickly petered out, but were blocked from a make up kiss by Clara's hands over her mother's mouth to prevent it. "That always happens too."

Harry sat down, intent on watching the couple interact. They did seem to love each other, but he expected that. He refused to let go of his theory, and wondered exactly which memories were removed and replaced. He then began to wonder why they would do such a thing. The people he had known during their Hogwarts days hated one another, and nary a kind word ever passed between them. Maybe Ron's theory of a third person wasn't far off.

"Stop," Ron warned, his voice low as he took a seat beside his friend. Harry shot him a dumbfounded look, but Ron Weasley knew better. "You're here to make amends, not investigate them."

"Old habits," his friend muttered.

Beside him, Charlotte glared, more angry with herself for inviting the pair into their lives. "So, how long do you two intend to stay in town?" she inquired. "I'm sure you've got families and jobs to return to. Or is this relocation permanent?"

Ron, who either missed her meaning or didn't care, responded first. "Actually, I quite like it here," he said. "People are much friendlier, and the food is good. I could stay here."

Harry's brows rose skeptically. "Your mother would never allow it," he retorted. "If we're not back next week, she'll fly here and drag us home."

"Is, um, are the two you a...um, a couple?" Draco inquired as the pair moved apart. "I'm not judging. Just curious, is all."

"Just friends," Ron told him, unfazed by the question. "He's engaged to my sister, actually, which seems like all the more reason to stay here. I'd rather be chased through the forest by spiders than watch them snog."

The married couple laughed, but Harry felt differently. He had no desire to remain in the small town, watching his friend live a life she shouldn't have. Though he wanted her to be happy, he wanted that happiness to be real. The life Hermione led was a false one in his eyes, and he would work to correct it.

Silence had descended upon the room and all eyes fell to him. He looked around, bewildered, before the question was repeated. "I'm going home tomorrow."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

"I'm glad he's going," Hermione said as she readied herself for bed that night. "He makes me uncomfortable."

Draco nodded in agreement. While Ron was amiable and willing to join in the dinner conversations, Harry sat silently as he watched them. It was unnerving. "Clara throwing a roll at his head was pretty amusing though," he commented. The antic had earned the little girl a trip to her room, but he still found it funny. "That's a habit we should probably work on breaking though."

"It could be handy," she countered. "She'll have to fight off the boys begging to date her somehow."

Grinning, he climbed into bed beside her. "You could always teach her how to throw a punch," he retorted. "I still haven't forgiven you for that, by the way."

Hermione stroked his jaw, remembering the exact location where her hit had landed nearly ten years ago. "I don't believe that for a second," she replied, kissing his chin. "You love me too much to stay mad at me for anything. In fact, I don't think you were mad when it happened."

That night a decade ago, they had shared their first kiss. He had been angry, but couldn't deny that he cared for her too much to stay angry. His pride had been wounded when his best friend, his only friend, slapped him in front of a large crowd of their classmates. When Hermione found him later that night alone in the library, he was contrite and quiet. They sat on the floor, their backs against the shelves, when Draco reached for her hand. When she didn't pull away, he kissed her and ran.

"Even then I loved you too much to stay mad at you," he murmured. "God, what does it say about me that I love the woman who abuses me?"

Hermione laughed as she snuggled closer to him. "Don't be such a baby," she teased. "I already have two, and I don't need another. You know I'd never hurt you...again."

Kissing her lips, he assured her that he knew. The door squeaked open and he groaned. Hermione sat up as she moved out of his arms. Propping himself up on his elbows, he spotted his daughter. "You," he said accusatorily. "Three year olds are supposed to be in bed and asleep and dreaming about being princesses at this hour."

Clara said nothing until she was settled between her parents. "I can't sleep," she declared. "Mr. Ron told me about magic, and I want magic, Daddy."

"What kind of magic did he tell you about?" Hermione asked.

Clara shrugged. She always grew tired in her parents' bed, and this time was no exception. "Witches and spells and stuff," she mumbled. "Him has a wand."

"You don't think wand is code for something else, do you?" Draco whispered. Furrowing her brow, Hermione shook her head. "It was probably just a stick then, right? Nothing to get upset over."

Though she nodded in agreement, there was a sinking feeling deep within her. "There's something I need to show you," she replied. After ensuring that Clara was asleep, they slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the living room. Taking a deep breath, Hermione bent down and removed the floorboard. "We had these with us when we moved here. Hearing Clara talk about wands and sticks...I can't help but wonder-"

Draco took his wand from her hand, and it felt like it belonged there. "Why did you hide these?" he wondered.

"I don't know," she admitted, watching him study the wand. "Are you mad that I did?"

He sat down on the floor beside her and shook his head. "It's just a stick," he murmured. "Why'd you keep them?"

"I thought they might mean something," she replied. "I've never gone through the bag. Think we should?"

Setting the wand aside, he reach for the bag and opened it. His eyes widened at the depth of the small purse. "How is this even possible?" he muttered, pulling out a large, heavy book. He opened it, turning the delicate pages full of strange characters. "What is this?"

"Hieroglyphics?" Hermione guessed, peering at the text. She too pulled a book from the bag; a journal with her name embossed in gold lettering on the cover. Turning to the last page, she read the very last thing she had written in the diary - _I think the war is about to begin_. It spurred more questions, questions she knew she could not answer. "I think we should talk to Ron."

Closing the book, he placed it beside the bag. "Honey, there's no such thing as magic," he replied, getting to his feet. "Whatever he was telling Clara, it's pretend. Make believe. He was talking to a three year old."

"I know that," she said. "There's just this feeling I can't shake. Why would we keep sticks? What does this book mean? Why would I write about a war I don't remember fighting?"

Draco was tired. "Maybe there was no war to fight," he reasoned. "Look, it's late, and I think we should just go to bed. Forget about this stuff. Throw it away. Don't dwell on this."

They both knew that was easier said than done, but Hermione gave in. After putting the books and purse back beneath the floorboard, she followed her husband to their bedroom. Sleep did not come that night, however. Her thoughts were filled with the contents of the purse and the things Ron had told their daughter. What if magic was real?

The next morning, she called Ron and asked him to come to the house while Draco was at work. Clara played at Mrs. Bradbury's house, leaving her alone with Liam until he showed. "Everything okay?" he asked when she let him into the house.

She considered his question for a moment before shaking her head. "Clara mentioned that the two of you were talking about magic last night," she started as she handed him her journal. "I've been reading this all morning, and I'm beginning to wonder if maybe what you told her about was real."

Ron sighed as he whispered her name. They had been stories, not intended to be informative to the adults. He knew she would not believe that though. "Magic is real," he eventually said. Pulling out his wand, he demonstrated by changing the color of the candle on the coffee table from white to purple. "I'm a wizard, Harry is a wizard. I don't know why you don't remember any of this. We have a few theories, but no real proof."

She took back the journal and flipped through it. "I wrote about my parents in here," she shared. "It seems I erased their memories before they died. Did I kill my parents?"

"No," he assured her.

"Am I a wizard as well?"

Ron smiled. "A witch actually."

Silently, she took in this new information. It seemed too fantastical to be true, but the journal supported his claim. The real question now was how would she tell Draco what she, and possibly he, really was.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Though she knew no spells, it did not deter Hermione from testing out her wand. Within an hour, she managed to move a book from one side of the room to the other. The new skill delighted her, but she was unable to revel for too long. When the front door opened, she stashed the wand between the couch cushions and rose to greet her husband.

"It's quiet," he noticed as he kissed her. "Did the kids run away?"

Hermione chuckled against his lips. "I sold Clara to the circus," she replied. "Liam's not old enough, so we're stuck with him for the time being. He's napping."

Draco stepped around her and entered their bedroom to check on the sleeping infant. The baby boy breathed softly and punched the air with a tiny fist as Draco rubbed his stomach. "Gonna keep us up tonight, buddy?" he asked softly. Hermione stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He turned to face her. "You look tired too. Go take a nap. I'll buy Clara back from that circus you sold her to, and make sure she has dinner."

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to you," she replied, biting her lower lip.

"About why the living room smells like ginger?" he inquired, noting the confusion in her eyes. "Ron left his jacket on the coat rack."

Nodding, she pulled away and left the bedroom. Seated on the sofa, she fidgeted nervously as she told him about Ron's visit. "It's real, Draco," she concluded.

He shook his head in disbelief. His wife was not a witch, nor was his new friend a wizard. Magic was the stuff of fairy tales, not real life. "This is crazy," he declared. Hermione pulled the wand from between the cushions, pointed it at a book on the coffee table, and made it float in midair. Gray eyes widened. "How?"

"Magic," Hermione replied.

"There were two sticks. Does that mean I can do this too?" he wondered. Hermione shrugged. Ron had made no mention of Draco possessing magical abilities. Instead, she handed him his wand and told him to give it a wave. That wave knocked over a vase of flowers. "Do you think that's a yes?"

Hermione began to pick up the shattered ceramic pieces from the floor. "I think it might be," she replied. "Ron said he didn't know how I could forget that I was a witch, but he and Harry are looking into it. He said something about a memory charm, but that's not exactly something I can google. I think our only option is to wait."

"I hate waiting," he mumbled, sitting down beside her. "Do, uh, do you think this means the kids will be able to do magic too?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, it does explain things," she said. "Clara always knows when someone is coming, minutes before they actually show up. Or she'll get angry, and something breaks even though no one touches it."

There were more examples of unexplainable happenings in their house. In the past, they chalked it up to coincidence, but now magic seemed to be the only explanation. "What I can't figure out is why we would give it up," Draco remarked. "Although, I'm fine with not being to understand that book of yours."

A blush crept up Hermione's neck, and Draco grinned, knowing why she turned a lovely shade of pink. "I skimmed it today," she told him. "A few things made sense."

Draco laughed loudly, knowing his wife's unquenchable thirst for knowledge. "So, on my very long list of questions, here's one," he said. "Ron said the three of you were friends. Why would you pick a git like Potter to be your friend?"

She shrugged, standing up to dispose of the broken vase. "Who knows. He probably used me to do his homework," she replied. Glancing back, she saw that he followed her. "Quite like someone else I know."

"Once, Granger! I copied your homework once," he exclaimed. Taking a seat on the counter, he waited for her to toss the vase before positioning her between his legs. "Why do you look sad?"

The change had been sudden. One minute, they were joking and laughing, and the next she began to worry about her past, his past, and their future. "What if we were completely different people?" she wondered. "If their theory is true, and we were given new memories, that could mean that we're not us. What if we hated each other?"

"Not possible," he replied dismissively. "I can't hate you. Even if it's true that I didn't like you when we were kids, that doesn't change the fact that I love you now. Five years ago, I vowed to love you until death do us part, and I still mean it."

Hermione sighed as he held her close. "I wish those two had never come here," she mumbled. "What if they've ruined everything?"

"What if they've ruined nothing?" he countered. "Maybe all we're getting out of this is some cool superpowers. That could be all that was changed. Don't make yourself crazy over this." Nodding, she promised that she wouldn't. Moving her back, he dismounted the counter. "I'll call Ron, ask him to come over and explain all this to me."

Hermione agreed, and distracting herself with feeding and bathing Liam as they awaited Ron's second visit of the day. She made arrangements for Clara to spend the night with Mrs. Bradbury, allowing the adults to speak without fear of interruption. When Ron arrived after dinner, she shook with nerves, and left the conversation up to the men.

Draco took a deep breath as Ron waited patiently for him to ask his questions. So many came to mind that Draco didn't know where to begin. "Um, I guess the first question is how did you find us."

"An anonymous letter," Ron replied, fearful that he would damage the relationship between the adults and Mrs. Bradbury. "There've been reports of sightings for years, but nothing we ever believed. This one felt different, so we decided to look into it. We weren't expecting the two of you to be...well, the two of you as you are now."

Draco nodded. "Hermione mentioned something about a memory charm," he continued. "If that's what happened, is it reversible?"

Beside her husband, Hermione gasped. Ron eyed her curiously as he shrugged his shoulders. "It's not a spell I know," he admitted. "The healers at St. Mungo's could probably do it, if that's what you both really want."

Pursing her lips, Hermione rose silently and left the room. Draco excused himself and entered the master bedroom. "What's bothering you?" he asked. Hermione was seated on the bed, watching her son sleep. When she gave no reply, he sat in front of her and took her hand. "Love?"

Sighing, she refused to look his way. "Reversing the charm means losing everything," she muttered.

"No, it doesn't," he replied. "Not if we don't want it to. I don't care what my memories used to be. All that matters to me is the present and future."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

"She's really upset that there's a chance to reverse her memory?" Ron asked disbelievingly. "Doesn't sound like the girl I knew. She hated not knowing things."

Draco sighed as they walked around town together. "It's not that," he replied. "You knew her. What was she like back then?"

Ron rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Honestly? She hated you," he said. "You hated each other. I don't know what changed, or why you would choose to implant memories of yourselves as best friends. Hell, I didn't know it was possible to Obliviate the way we think you did."

Try as he might to take in what the redhead said, Draco had trouble processing the new information. He sat down and held his head in his hands. "We were never really friends?" he wondered.

Ron took a seat beside him and sighed. "Hermione...liked to keep her secrets," he said. "I'm wondering if maybe you were one of them. There's never been evidence to suggest that someone else did this to you, so it had to be the two of you who performed the spell. If you didn't already get along, I can't understand why you would choose to implant memories of friendship."

"Will we forget this?" he asked. "If we do go through with this, will we forget this life or the life we thought we had when we were younger?"

"No," Ron promised. "I mean, maybe the fake memories will be forgotten, but you'll remember your life after the memory charm was cast. Hermione and I were friends for a long time, and I know that she's loyal. The two of you seem to really love each other, and I don't think she'll leave you when the spell is reversed. What worries me is you, though." Blond brows rose questioningly. What could he possibly have been like that he would warrant such concern? Ron groaned, but continued. "There are statuses in our world. You're a pureblood, meaning you've got a purely magical lineage. Hermione's parents were muggles, or non-magical beings. A lot of purebloods, your family included, hate her kind."

"But I love her now," he insisted. "And she loves me. We'll get through this."

"The muggle who thinks she's been his best friend for eleven years loves her now," Ron countered. "Neither one of us knows what'll happen when you go back to being you. Everything could be fine, and I could be worrying about nothing. All I know is the Malfoy I knew would never accept halfblood children."

Standing, anger blazed inside of Draco. "You're wrong," he said before walking away. He jogged home to find Hermione reading to Clara. Out of breath, he knelt before her, cupped her cheeks, and kissed her as if he would never get to again. "I love you," he said when he pulled away.

Hermione closed the book and moved Clara from her lap. "I love you too," she replied, still startled by his show of affection. "What's gotten into you?"

"I just never want you to forget that," he murmured, getting to his feet. Picking up Clara, he took her seat beside her mother and held her. "That won't change. Whatever memories we have, my love for you will never change."

His eyes were pleading and pained, and she knew what he wanted. "You want to go back, don't you?" she asked. His gaze never wavered as he nodded. Sighing, she looked away. She could hear Clara's high voice ask him question and question, but Hermione tuned it out. She was not too proud to admit that going home scared her. It meant giving up the life she and Draco had struggled to build. It meant knowing that happy memories were not real.

"Mommy, pace a tension to me," Clara whined.

Without realizing it, Hermione began to laugh. "I'm sorry, baby," she said, kissing her daughter's round cheek. "I promise to always pay attention to you. Now, can you repeat your question?"

With a huff, she did as she was told. "I said to make Daddy tell me where we're going."

"We're going to go to England," Hermione told her. "It's where Daddy and I grew up, and why you think we sound so silly." Clara giggled, but still let it be known that she didn't understand why they were going.

"It's just a vacation," Draco said, hating himself for lying to his child. Accepting his answer, Clara wiggled out of his grasp and left for her room. "Did I do the wrong thing, telling her that?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think she'd understand the truth," she admitted. "I don't think I understand it either. Why are we so sure that they should be believed?"

"I trust Ron," Draco replied. "Although, I don't want to believe the things he's told me about who I was. I can't imagine hating you."

She held his hand tightly, fearful that they might someday let each other go. "You're sure this is what you want to do?" she asked. "We have a good life here. We're happy. Maybe it's better to keep things as they are."

"You're not the least bit curious?" he wondered. Looking down, she shrugged. "Are you worried that maybe you really did hate me?"

"I'm worried about a lot of things," she replied. "Ron's theory that we changed our own memories - if he's right and we hated each other, why would we do that? Or, if we did like one another, why would no one else know that? I know we'll remember the last five years, but what if the old memories do change something between us? This could hurt the kids, and that's the last thing in the world I want to have happen."

Try as he might, Draco seemed unable to get through to his wife. Letting go of her hand, he stood and left the living room. Alone, Hermione felt the urge to cry, but held her tears at bay. Never before had he walked away from her, especially not when she was voicing concerns and fears. It was unlike him to get upset over her feelings. But, she decided, if he intended to be mad, she would simply ignore him.

Entering the master bedroom, she was glad to find Liam as her only company. "You still love me, don't you?" she asked, easing him from the crib. Sitting down, she cradled her baby boy in her arms and attempted to earn a smile from the youngest Malfoy. After several failed tries, she gave up.

"He's too much like me," Draco declared, standing in the doorway. Hermione looked up, frowned, and returned her attention to her son. Sighing, he joined her, reclining beside her. "I'm sorry. Can I tell you what I think? Because what I think is maybe Ron's right. Maybe we did hate each other when we were kids, but we got over that. I think we loved each other, and that's why we did what we did."

"I really want you to be right," she murmured, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Draco kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, love. I'm always right."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

Ron greeted the family of four at the inn, ready to return to England. "You're sure you want to do this?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Why not?" she replied. "We can always cast new memories if we don't like the old ones."

Draco laughed, but Ron was far more stern. "I don't recommend that," he warned. "Now, I've arranged everything with the Ministry here to allow you to travel abroad. There will be additional information when we get back to England, things the Ministry had to approve to allow you to enter. I intend to get the both of you to St. Mungo's without being seen by anyone. Unfortunately, that means making some modifications."

The couple looked wary, but allowed Ron to perform glamour charms to conceal their true identities. No longer was Draco a platinum blond. Now his hair was a dark brown, and his eyes more blue. Hermione's curls no longer hung around her shoulders. Straight red hair cascaded down her back. With his work done, Ron pulled Draco aside.

"Look, um, there's something you need to know," he said hesitantly. Draco waited patiently for him to continue, though his heart hammered painfully. "You, uh, there was...is a warrant for your arrest. I'm trying to make it go away, but I don't know, mate. I just didn't want you to be ambushed when we get there."

"Why?" Draco wondered. "What did I do?"

Ron did his best to summarize the charges, watching as Draco paled. "Hermione always believed you joined the Death Eaters under duress," he said when he finished. "We reverse your memories, we testify on your behalf, and this is over."

"Or they view me as a fugitive and lock me up forever," Draco muttered. Legs weak, he sat down. "How do I tell Hermione? How do I explain this to Clara? Maybe going back is a bad idea. I can't risk losing my family."

Nodding, Ron promised that he would find another way. They returned to Hermione and children, and Ron announced that the trip was off. "But I want a 'cation," Clara whined as Draco picked her up.

Hermione glanced from her husband to Ron, looking for answers. "I'll talk to Mrs. Bradbury," Ron said. "Maybe she can point us in the direction of another hospital."

"Why would you discuss that with Mrs. Bradbury?" Hermione inquired.

Ron's cheeks reddened as he lifted the glamour charms she and Draco wore. "You didn't know," he muttered. "I, uh...just trust me. She can help. Come on, let's go home."

"Daddy, I don't know what's happening," Clara said as they left the U.S. Ministry.

With a mirthless laugh, he told her he didn't know either. They returned home, and Ron went next door to speak with Charlotte. Hermione decided it was time for answers. Sending Clara to her room, Hermione eyed her husband until he spoke. He told her all he knew about the war and the role he had played. "I think...I think Potter came here to arrest me," he told her. "The memory thing must have thrown him off. What if we can never go back?"

Hermione held him as close as possible with Liam still in the baby carrier strapped to her chest. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she murmured. "You know I'll do whatever I can to keep you out of prison. I'm sure Ron will too."

Sighing, he removed Liam from the carrier and held him close. "I won't leave you," he vowed. "If it means we stay here with the memories we have, then that's what we do."

"We could reverse the memories and stay here," she suggested. "I guess so long as word doesn't get back to Harry, we're okay."

Ron returned with Charlotte in tow. "I'm so sorry I never told you," she said, her blue eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I swear I didn't mean to bring them here. I just wanted your friends to know you that you were alright, Hermione. I didn't know there was an arrest warrant."

"It's fine," Draco said, though his attention was more for Ron than the old woman. "So, what's the plan now?"

A trip to New York was in order. Their hospital was just as reputable as St. Mungo's, and had the best healers in North America. They would reverse the charms, restoring the Malfoys' memories. "And Harry?" Hermione wondered. "If this hospital lets it slip that we were there, that could get back to him."

Ron sighed and made himself comfortable. "We could use the glamour charms again," he suggested. "Or I could take you, and you could perform the spell on Draco. Honestly, I don't think Harry will be a bother. Getting you back is all he cared about."

"He doesn't have me back," Hermione stated. "And he definitely won't if he arrests my husband."

Ron nodded, knowing she meant what she said. "Let me talk to him," he pleaded. "I can reason with him, get him to drop the charges. You were never a real threat anyway, Draco. There's no reason why you should even stand trial. Have the spell performed, and I'll talk to Harry."

"I can do it," Charlotte interjected. Three sets of eyes turned to her. "I studied to be a healer when I still had some ambition. I know the spell."

Will you go first?" Hermione asked Draco, her voice quaking with nerves. "I don't...I'm not ready."

His kiss was tender. "I love you," he whispered. "And I will continue to love you in five minutes."

Charlotte led him to the master bedroom. "I'm scared," Hermione confessed when she was alone with Ron. "I've been really happy these last few years, and now everything's going to change."

Ron sat down beside her. "I think it's okay to feel that way," he said softly. "This was a big decision to make, and Harry and I certainly didn't help matters. I'm really sorry we barged in like we did."

Hermione shrugged. It made little difference to her now. Down the hall, the bedroom door opened, but only one set of footsteps approached. Charlotte stood under the archway, looking expectantly at Hermione. Ron wished her luck as Hermione followed the older woman to the bedroom. Draco appeared to be asleep on the bed, and she was instructed to lie down beside him. "Is he okay?" she wondered.

"Just waiting for the spell to wear off," Charlotte told her. "It's powerful magic, and the two of you erased a lot of time. Now, lie back and close your eyes."

Hermione heard nothing, saw nothing.

The world went dark.


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry for the cliffhanger on the last chapter! You guys know I'm always good for another though.

* * *

Chapter 12

Ron returned to England for the first time in a month, hoping to talk some sense into his best friend. He could do it. He _had_ to do it. The Malfoys' life depended on him. When Charlotte finished performing the necessary spells to reverse their memories, Ron left. While he and muggle Draco got on well, he knew that the proud pureblood Draco would not take as kindly to his presence.

His heart pounded as he entered the Ministry and took the lift to the Aurors' offices. "Welcome back," Harry said when Ron appeared in his doorway. "Honestly, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again."

Ron's letter of resignation had gone back to England with Harry. "The charms have been reversed," he stated. "I only came back to ask that you leave them alone."

Harry sighed as he set down his quill. "I have no intention of arresting Draco," he told his friend. "I would, however, like to talk to Hermione now that she's Hermione again."

The redhead grinned, relieved to know that no trouble would come to his friends. "I think that could be arranged," he replied. "Unless this is a ploy to lull them into a false sense of security so you can arrest Draco."

"I'll make an Unbreakable Vow," Harry suggested. Ron took him up on the offer, feeling better when it was made. "I just want answers. Did they say anything to you? Are they speaking to each other?"

Embarrassed, Ron was forced to admit that he didn't know. "So, when do we leave?"

00000000

Hermione awoke alone with a head full of new memories. They were terrible memories of war and destruction and death. In her mind, she saw old friends - Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Fred Weasley - die all over again. Shutting her eyes, she fought to hold back tears, but to no avail. Slowly, she sat up and left the bed. Anxiety engulfed her, her hands shaking and legs wobbling, as she slowly made her way to the living room.

Draco sat on the couch with Liam in his arms. "How's your head?" he asked when he saw her.

"Woozy," she admitted. "I remember why we cast those charms."

He nodded in agreement. "I've been seeing that night on the Astronomy Tower since I woke up," he shared. She sat beside him, and he took hold of her hand. "Here's the million galleon question though - are we alright?"

Despite the horrors she saw, Hermione clearly, vividly remembered their night by the lake. Their first kiss changed everything, and for the better. "We are," she confirmed. Smiling, he kissed her. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted. The stories those two told scared me."

"Imagine hearing them about yourself," he remarked. "I know I have a lot to atone for, but I do love you. It has nothing to do with the last five years. Well, I mean, not _nothing_, but you know what I mean. I just...I had feelings for you before we erased our memories."

There were tears in her eyes, the kind that were happily shed. "I liked you too," she replied.

"Like me enough to screw with Potter and Weasley?" he asked hopefully. "Because you know they're coming back, and they'll have certain expectations for how we should act."

Rolling her eyes, she stood. "You're a horrible person, and I can't believe I married you," she replied.

Laughing, he followed her to the kitchen. "Yes, exactly like that," he said enthusiastically. "You could stand to be a little less convincing around me though."

She wanted to giggle and tease and joke with him, but other concerns weighed on her mind, specifically their three year-old. "How do we tell Clara about this?" she wondered. "I know we have to keep our magic limited because of the town, but she'll know something's going on when you charm the dishes to wash themselves."

Draco knew she wasn't wrong. He had spent five years doing everything the muggle way, but they were habits he was willing to break. "We tell her the truth," he decided. "Mummy and Daddy can do magic, and someday so will she."

"There's no option two?" Hermione asked as the front door opened. Wincing, he shook his head as Clara ran into the kitchen with Mrs. Bradbury behind her. "Well, that answers where she's been."

Hermione picked her up, grinning at her chocolate lips. "Mommy, Nana let me have ice cream," Clara announced. "And Mr. Ron is outside with that other man even though I told him he can't come back."

Draco's heart hammered against his ribs as he left the kitchen with Liam still in his arms. He reasoned that Potter wouldn't harm a man with a baby. Pulling open the front door, he invited the pair in. "My daughter said you weren't allowed to come here," he commented as Harry passed him. "You should know she rules the roost, and she's more terrifying than Hermione."

Harry snorted as he followed Ron to the sofa. "It doesn't surprise me that you're afraid of a toddler," he replied. Ron elbowed him in the ribs. "It's a joke. Malfoy knows it's a joke."

"Oh, but it's not," Draco said. "So, do we continue trading witty barbs, or are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"

"Where's Hermione?" Harry inquired.

Glancing back in the direction of the kitchen, Draco replied, "Scrubbing the ice cream from Clara's face. She should be out any minute."

Harry remained silent until Hermione joined them. The couple exchanged a brief, unreadable glance before turning their attention to the Head Auror. He took a deep breath. "Something happened to the arrest warrant we had on you, Malfoy," he stated. "Just...poof, it disappeared. There's no record of it."

"I didn't do it," Draco said defensively, his gray eyes wide.

"At least, I think that's what happened," Harry continued. "That is, if it's what Hermione wants. What exactly is the situation between the two of you?"

Another indecipherable look passed between them before Hermione sat down. "We haven't really had much time to discuss it," she admitted. "For the kids' sake, I think we intend to make this work as best we can."

Draco held Liam up high enough to cover a smirk, but Ron caught it. "Are the two of you jerking us around?" he asked. The blond shrugged, but continued to hide behind his son. "That's it, I'm going to play with the nugget and be done with the three of you."

"Take this one. He needs a new nappy," Draco said, handing Liam over to a grumbling Ron. He watched as he walked down the hall to the Clara's room and disappeared. He took a seat beside his wife, but seemed to struggle not to touch her in Harry's presence.

"So, will you be coming home now?" he asked, his gaze settling on Hermione.

She reached for Draco's hand, holding it tightly. "We are home, Harry."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13

Draco awoke from a restless sleep to the shaking of the bed and Hermione's whimpers. Rolling over, he held her close, hoping the contact would calm her. Instead, she woke with an anguished cry. "You're okay," he whispered as she turned and sobbed against his chest. It had become a nightly routine since having the memory charms reversed. Nightmares plagued the couple as they struggled to sleep through the night. While Draco often remained silent, Hermione had a harder time keeping her emotions in check. When she began to calm down, he asked her to tell him about the dream.

Pulling away, Hermione sat up and drew her knees to her chest. "It was the day your aunt tortured me," she told him. The physical reminder of that day was gone, but the mental ones were back. "There was a reason we got rid of these memories. I...I don't know that I can do this every day for the rest of my life."

"Maybe it gets easier," he suggested, rubbing her back. "Maybe we just delayed the healing by casting those charms. Potter and Weasley seem okay."

Hermione snorted. "They're boys," she mumbled, resting her head on her knees.

"And what am I?" Draco wondered with a small laugh. He urged her to lie back down, and held her in his arms. "Maybe they can help somehow. I'll talk to Ron in the morning about getting us some Dreamless Sleep."

"We have a newborn," she reminded him. "We can't both take it. That stuff knocks you out all night."

Draco shrugged a shoulder. "Fine, then you'll take it," he said, his tone indicating that there would be no argument. His dreams seemed to be far less distressing than hers, and Hermione needed her rest. "Please, just let me do this."

Guilty gray eyes pleaded with her, and Hermione relented. "You know you don't owe me any apologies, right?" she asked, stroking a stubble-covered cheek.

"All I wanted to do was protect you, and all I did was stand there and watch," he replied, his voice breaking.

"Sweetheart, there was nothing you could have done," she told him. "I never blamed you. If you had stepped in front of the curse, or begged her to stop, we both would have been hurt. She had no intention of relenting. And I'm fine, aside from a few nightmares."

Draco nodded, and they laid together in silence. They listened as Liam gurgled and breathed a contented sigh, one that meant he continued to sleep. Draco envied his month old son. "You're really not mad at me?" he wondered.

Her eyes had slowly begun to drift shut, and Hermione groaned. "No, I'm not," she replied as she opened her eyes. "You did what you had to do to stay alive. Don't think it escaped my notice that you wouldn't allow Crabbe and Goyle to fire their wands at me. You helped when you could, and I don't hold it against you that you didn't if you couldn't. Now, try to relax and think about something that isn't awful."

He tried. Beside him, his wife slept peacefully in his arms. He thought of his wedding, the days Clara and Liam were born, the time he and Hermione spent alone doing nothing but enjoying each other's company. They were good memories - wonderful memories - but were overshadowed by torture and battles and the hateful boy he had been. After making sure his wife was asleep, Draco slipped out of bed and left the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked, entering the living room to find Clara watching television. The little girl, her hair a mess, held up the remote. "It's three in the morning. Why are you out of bed?"

"Mommy woke me," Clara replied, placing her head in his lap when he sat down. "Is she okay?"

Draco combed his fingers through her long curls. "Yeah, baby. Mummy's okay," he promised. "So, can I watch cartoons with you? I'm having trouble sleeping too." Nodding, she sat up long enough to climb onto his lap. "Do you do this often when you can't sleep?"

Clara shrugged. "Sometimes," she mumbled. "Am I gonna be in trouble?"

"Not this time," he assured her. "Try to go back to sleep."

She settled against him as Draco gently rubbed her arm. "Daddy, can you do magic too?"

His hand stopped moving as he sighed. This wasn't the time for a difficult and complicated discussion, but Draco couldn't lie to her. "Yeah, baby, I can," he replied. "Mummy can too, but don't tell her I told you. She's brilliant, really. The kind of family I came from, we did magic our whole lives. I thought I'd be the smartest person in the whole school until your mum showed up. She'd been a witch for a month, and could do spells that even the big kids couldn't."

"Is that why you love Mommy?" Clara asked sleepily.

Draco laughed. "Quite the opposite actually," he remarked. "I'm not proud to say that I didn't like her. We were always a bit mean to each other. But when I needed a friend, it didn't matter to Mummy that we didn't like each other. She was there for me, and I'll love her for that forever."

"That's nice, Daddy," she mumbled.

Glancing down, he saw that she was asleep. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a shadow by the wall. "How much did you hear?" he asked.

Chagrined, Hermione joined him on the sofa. "Just that last part about loving me forever," she admitted. "Did you mean it?"

"I did," he confirmed, giving her shoulder a gentle nudge. "I know the memories we implanted were a bit accelerated, but they weren't entirely fabricated."

Yawning, she rested her head against his shoulder. "I know," she murmured. "I love you too."

Looking down, he saw she was beginning to fall asleep. "Hey, stay awake," he urged. "I have to put this one back to bed."

"Let's just stay here," she suggested. "It'll be like the old days. Besides, my wand will tell me if Liam wakes up. I'm just really comfortable."

With a sigh, he gave in and readjusted Clara in his arms. Soon, he too was asleep. It was only as the sun rose that he woke, finding himself alone. He sat up and stretched before going in search of his family. The sound of laughter led him to the kitchen where he found Ron Weasley cooking his daughter breakfast.

"My, Hermione, you've let yourself go overnight," Draco commented. "Care to tell me where my wife is?"

"Liam was messy," Clara stated. "Uncle Ron is making breakfast."

Draco kissed the top of her head and sat down beside her. "Ron is not your uncle," he stated.

"But I want one," Clara said, jutting out her bottom lip.

Laughing, Ron set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. "How do you say no to that face?" he wondered.

A retort was on the tip of his tongue when Draco heard his panicked wife call for him. Hurriedly, he left for the master bathroom where he found Hermione sitting on the floor with Liam in her arms. "What happened?" he asked worriedly as he knelt down beside her. Mother and son sobbed. Draco pried Liam, still wet from the bath, from Hermione's arms. "Hermione, what happened?"

Realizing she no longer held her child, Hermione looked up with wild brown eyes. "I was bathing him and he was crying," she explained, choking on a sob. "I had this...this flashback, and suddenly Bellatrix was standing over me again. I couldn't stop seeing her. I pulled him out of the bath, and just needed to protect him. I needed to keep her from hurting him."

Sighing, he looked up to find Ron in the doorway. Beckoning him forward, he handed him Liam. "It's alright, sweetheart," he said when they were alone again. "She's gone. She'll never hurt you again."

"What if I never shake this though?" she wondered. "I don't know that I can handle this."

He sat beside her, his arms holding her protectively. "We'll figure out a way," he promised. "Whatever it takes - we'll do it."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14

Ron arranged for Draco to Apparate directly to 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry was expecting him, but was still perplexed by his visit. Nervously, Draco explained Hermione's breakdown in the bathroom. "I don't know how to help her," he concluded.

"You're not worried about the kids' safety, are you?" Harry wondered.

The blond shook his head. "She'd give her life for our children," he replied. "I'm not worried she'll hurt them. I'm scared that she thinks she's going crazy."

Harry beckoned him to follow to the kitchen, where he poured two tumblers of firewhiskey. "Tell me what I can do to help," he said, sipping the drink slowly. When Draco said nothing, Harry knew he really had no idea how to help her. "I, um, I know she doesn't want to come back here, but maybe there's a wizarding hospital near you? St. Mungo's had counselors on staff after the war. I still go. She's repressed these memories for five years. Talking to someone who isn't one of us might be what she needs."

Draco nodded solemnly. "So, no potion or spell or charm that would work?" he asked.

"Sure, you could _Obliviate_ her," came Harry's sarcastic reply.

But Draco saw no humor in his retort. "I won't let her do that again," he decided. "We both know she's never been the type to take the coward's way out, and erasing her memories a second time would be doing just that."

There was no disagreeing with that. "She's not alone now, is she?" Harry wondered. Draco denied it, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Look, um, I know the two of you don't want any contact with our world, but it might not hurt to have a few friends around who've been through the same things you have. You and I aren't each other's favorite people, but you know I'll do whatever I can for the both of you."

"Thank you, Harry," Draco replied, offering a grateful smile. He stood, ready to leave, but thought better of it. "I know you're not happy that we're together, but I appreciate your help."

Harry shrugged as Draco began to walk towards the door. "She's been my best friend since we were kids. I'd do anything for her," he replied. "And if that means accepting this marriage, that's what I'll do."

"I didn't think we needed your approval," Draco remarked, now standing on the porch, "but thanks."

Harry chuckled. For all the trouble he had given the Malfoy family, it was nice to be able to joke with the boy he had once regarded as the enemy. "Would you mind if I came back with you?" he asked.

Gray eyes widened in surprise, but Draco consented. Harry took hold of his arm, ready to Apparate before he was stopped. "Wait, you're not planning on taking me to the Ministry to arrest me for war crimes, are you?" he asked.

"I swear I'm not," Harry assured him. "I told you - the arrest warrant is gone."

Though wary of his intentions, Draco Apparated home with Harry. Ron was seated on the floor with Clara and two dolls between them, while Mrs. Bradbury fed Liam. Clara was the first to look up as the pair arrived in the living room. Gray eyes widened with wonder as the little girl proclaimed their appearance the coolest thing she had ever seen.

"Cooler than Ron making your dolls move on their own?" Draco wondered. "Where's Mummy?"

"Resting," Charlotte told him. "She asked for some Dreamless Sleep. Another rough night?"

Draco frowned as he nodded. "She sat in that blasted rocking chair all night with Liam in her arms," he said to anyone who would listen. "She keeps seeing that night at my parents' house."

"Reckon it's a side effect of the curse?" Ron asked. Draco shook his head, and asked his daughter to leave the room. "What about that blade Bellatrix used? It was cursed, right?"

"I healed the wound," Draco told them. "Besides, if it had anything to do with what's going on now, then it would have also been bothering her the last five years."

Harry considered this for a moment. "What if it was bothering her?" he wondered. "It might have just been bad dreams, but she could have been seeing this stuff all along. Maybe she just didn't know what it was until now."

Charlotte was the first to alert them to Hermione's appearance. Clearing her throat, the men knew to cease their conversation. Draco left the gathering to greet her, but her icy demeanor let him know he was in trouble. "What's going on here?" she inquired, arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm just here to play with the kid," Ron said, holding up his hands.

"I live here," Draco added.

All eyes fell on Harry. "I was hoping we could talk," he said. "Like we used to."

There was something in the way he looked at her, like the old Harry had. Sympathy and love radiated in green eyes. Hermione found herself nodding, and led him to the deck just off the kitchen. The air had begun to grow chilly, but a well placed and well concealed warming charm did the trick.

"Draco's told you, hasn't he?" Hermione mumbled after several tense seconds passed. Harry merely looked down at the table instead of answering. "Just how worried is he?"

Harry looked up. "Really worried," he told her. "I thought maybe if you had someone else to talk to, it could help."

Hermione laughed mirthlessly as she stared at the trees in her yard. "What's there to say?" she wondered. "I put off dealing with my feelings for five years, and now they've caught up to me. Just...tell me it gets easier. Even if you have to lie, just tell me this gets better."

"It does," he assured her, reaching across the table to hold her hand. "I know how strong you are, Hermione, but I also know how frustrating it is to be told you always have to be strong. You want to cry, do it. You want to scream, scream. Want to break plates? Call me up, and I'll help. Sirius's mother has boxes of fine china in the attic. Sure, half of them are gone because I smashed them, but there are quite a lot left."

Hermione laughed, and for the first time in a long time, it was a genuine laugh. "I don't know how that helps, but it sounds fun," she remarked. "I wouldn't mind getting into Malfoy Manor to destroy a few things."

"I'm sure Draco could arrange that," Harry added. "I'll bet he'd like to break a few things there too."

She chuckled softly as she squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Harry," she murmured. "My parents were dead, and I thought I had no one left in the world. Running away with Draco...I really do love him, Harry. It was cowardly though. I'm sorry I worried you."

"You don't have to apologize," he replied. "If I'd thought of your plan, I would have done it too. Everything we did and saw, the bad seemed to outweigh the good. What I wouldn't give to forget it."

She bit her bottom lip nervously. "What if we could?"


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 15

"Let me guess - she's doing research," Ron remarked, making himself comfortable in the guest room of Mrs. Bradbury's house. Smirking, Harry nodded. "That's our girl. So, what's her plan?"

For days, Hermione had poured over every book available to her, hoping to find a solution to the pain caused by the memories she and Draco had erased. The best option she found was to remove the memories and place them in a vial for later use. It would not erase the memory, but it would lessen its effect.

"Seems simple enough," Ron said. "What's the problem?"

Harry shrugged. "I think she's scared," he replied. "What if it doesn't work as well as she hopes?"

"Only one way to find out."

0000000000

Hermione fiddled with her wand, working up the nerve to perform the spell that would extract her memories of Bellatrix Lestrange. "You're a Gryffindor," she told herself. "Act like it."

Her hand shook as she raised her wand to her temple. She thought back to that day. Harry and Ron were locked in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor while Bellatrix Lestrange, deranged from her years in Azkaban prison, tortured her. The Cruciatus curse flew, striking her repeatedly. As one ended, another began. Her nerves were on fire, her blood boiled, and she prayed for death. The few fleeting moments when she was lucid, her attention had turned to Draco. The anguish he felt was visible only to her. That feeling helped her remain strong.

She breathed a sigh of relief as it left her memory in a milky white wisp. Once it was bottled, she looked up to find Draco standing in the doorway. "All done?" he asked. She held out the vial to him. "Think this will really work?"

"I hope so," she replied. "I just want to feel normal again."

"You will," he promised, kissing the top of her head as he sat down. "Maybe it would help to do something normal. Let's get out of the house. We'll take the kids somewhere, let Clara have some fun."

She nodded in agreement, and handed him the vial for safekeeping. An hour later, the family of four was ready to leave. Hermione held Clara in her arms while Draco pushed the carriage that held Liam. "I need you to make me a promise," she said to her daughter. "You can't tell anyone about magic. That has to be a Mummy/Daddy/Clary secret, okay?"

Rolling her eyes, Clara nodded. "I know, Mommy," she replied exasperatedly. She had been told the same thing every time they left the house. "Can we ever tell people?"

"Only other witches and wizards are allowed to know," Hermione explained. "It's like being a part of a secret club, one that not everyone can be a part of. You don't want to make the people who can't join jealous, do you?"

There was a doubtful look on the little girl's face. "Yes, I do," she replied.

Ahead of them, Draco found it difficult to contain his laughter. "There is no denying she is your child," Hermione stated. "That right there is all you."

"Says the witch who demanded we all know just how brilliant you were," Draco retorted. "Don't blame me for her personality. A good amount of that is you."

Hermione laughed, unable to deny that her daughter was very much like her. "It wasn't a compulsive need to prove anything," she argued. "Well, maybe at first it was. Then I realized just how much you hated it, so I felt the need to keep doing it."

He stopped walking until his wife and daughter were beside him. "I knew it," he told her, nudging her shoulder. "You had a crush on me, even back then. You were desperate for my attention."

"I was desperate to annoy you," Hermione replied.

They soon arrived at the park, and Hermione set Clara on her feet. Clara ran to the slide as her parents took a seat on a nearby bench. "You know how she always asks why I love you? Does she ever ask you?" he wondered.

Smiling, Hermione nodded. "All the time," she informed him. "My answer hasn't changed since we got our memories back."

He stared ahead, watching Clara climb to the top of the slide. "What do you tell her?"

Holding his arm, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I tell her I love you because you let me," she replied. "You let me be your friend, and you let me see a side of you no one else saw. I tell her that you have a smile reserved only for me. I remember in sixth year, sitting in the Great Hall, you would look up and flash me that smile. That's how I knew you were alright. You still give me that smile."

He blushed, not realizing that he had reserved certain emotions specifically for her. But he had known just how much she worried about him. She was his one and only confidant during that hellish year, and it seemed important to him that Hermione knew how he felt.

"It wasn't supposed to be you," he remarked. "God knows my parents are probably turning in their graves that it is, but I'm glad it is you. No one before you ever showed that they cared about me."

"And I always will," she murmured, kissing his cheek. Clara called to her, earning a smile in return. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are swings to be swung."

Draco smiled as he watched his wife and child play on the swings. This was his life, he was proud to say. Despite an oppressive upbringing, filled with terror and hate, he had somehow managed to have the family he always wanted. Love filled their hearts and house, and his children would never believe that their parents were people they should fear.

Beside him, the bench creaked, pulling him from his thoughts. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Harry and groaned softly. "This was supposed to be a nice, normal day with my family," he stated. "What do you want?"

"To check on her," Harry admitted. "She looks happy."

"She is," Draco replied. "I don't know if it's because that memory is no longer in her mind or if she's just having fun with Clara, but this is the Hermione I know and love."

Harry turned to look at him head-on, but Draco continued to keep his gaze trained on anything but the raven-haired man. "You really do love her?" he asked.

Sighing, Draco nodded, tired of being asked to defend his feelings for his wife. "Look, I know I'm not who you expected her to marry, and I don't know if we'd be together if it weren't for that memory charm. I wanted to be with her, and she felt the same. I just don't know that it would have happened if we stayed," he said. "What I do know is that I love Hermione, and I always will."

"I'm sorry. I didn't doubt it," Harry replied. "I just...it's still a bit weird to me. It takes some getting used to when two enemies figure out how to do this. Half the time Ginny and I can't get along, and we've never hated one another. So, what's the secret?"

Draco glanced at Liam who kicked his legs excitedly. "Three words - you're right, dear," he joked. "I don't know what the secret is. Maybe there isn't one. We were friends who cared for one another before we erased our memories, which I know you didn't know before this. I knew she'd challenge me and infuriate me, but I also knew she would be there for me whenever I needed her. That's what makes us work."

"Never thought I'd say this, but I think I envy you."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 16

Hermione laid in bed that night, wondering if the nightmares would come. It had been a good day, free of old memories. Perhaps that was due to a day of fun with her family, but Hermione would take whatever respite she could get. Now that she had time to ruminate, she wondered if Bellatrix would return.

"Don't think about it," Draco advised, slipping into bed beside her. "Happy thoughts, Mrs. Malfoy."

She grinned, feeling like a giddy fourth year with her first crush. "I think I could do that," she replied as his arms wound around her. "You know you make me happy, right?"

He puffed his chest proudly. "I had a feeling," he said, laughing. "You know, I can't remember the last time I saw you let go and have fun like you did today. I don't know whose smile was bigger - yours or Clara's."

Guilt warmed Hermione's cheeks. She too couldn't remember the last time she had been so carefree. Her formative years were spent wondering if she would survive the next adventure and battle. When she became a mother, her time was spent worrying for her children's safety. She watched Clara far more vigilantly than Draco did, and knew she would parent Liam just the same way.

"Hey, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," his voice cut into her thoughts.

"You didn't," she replied quickly, attempting to smile. "You just pointed out the truth. You're the fun parent, and I'm the parent parent. It's why Clara prefers to play with you and read with me. I don't mean that as a bad thing, merely stating a fact."

Draco frowned as he considered her "fact". It was no secret that Clara was a daddy's girl, but Draco never saw that as her having a parental preference. "What she does with us doesn't dictate how much she loves us," he told her. "She'll never love me more than she loves you just because I give her piggyback rides. You and I are a good team, Hermione, and we're raising a great little girl. Don't let this get to you. Although, if in three years, Liam decides he'd rather play with you, I fully intend to be an insensitive, jealous git."

Hermione chuckled softly, grateful for his ability to talk her down. "And I promise to gloat and rub it in your face that he likes me better," she retorted. His response was laughter. "That wasn't your way of saying that I sound like an insensitive, jealous git, is it?"

He flashed her a look that said he knew better than to think such things. Thankfully, the little figure who appeared in the doorway ended the conversation. "Mommy, it's gonna rain," Clara announced as she climbed into bed beside Hermione. "I can sleep here?"

Hermione nodded and turned away from her husband to comfort her daughter. "Do you want to know what I loved most about today?" she asked Clara.

She grinned as if she already knew the answer. "Playing with me?" the three year old guessed.

Hermione smiled as she nodded. "Thank you for such a great day," she said. Clara sighed in response, falling asleep in her mother's arms. Draco held his wife from behind, kissing her neck. "That is not appropriate right now."

A quiet laugh vibrated against her skin. "I feel bad that she inherited our fears," he commented. "What are we going to do when she decides she's too old to do this?"

"Procreate like a Weasley?" Hermione suggested. "We'll always have someone young enough to cuddle with during a thunderstorm."

"We'll also be as poor as the Weasleys," Draco pointed out. "That's not to say I wouldn't welcome a houseful of kids, I just think we should be practical about the number we have."

Hermione nodded in agreement as she tightened her hold on Clara. When she had talked to Harry earlier in the day, the subject of employment came up. Despite her protests that she was happy with the job she had, Harry insisted that a Ministry job would be more lucrative. Once more, she politely declined and asked him to change the subject. With her back still to him, she shared the conversation with her husband.

"Did you mean it?" he wondered, rolling onto his back. She turned just enough to know that he would see her nod. "So, all that talk from Potter about envying our life and promising that he wouldn't interfere, now he's offering you jobs?"

Sighing, she loosened her hold on Clara and faced him. "I told him this is our home," she replied. "Going back to England is out of the question, at least for me. Unless...I mean, do you want to go back?"

Snorting, he shook his head. England was the last place in the world he considered going. He was silent for a long while, determining how to tell his wife exactly what was on his mind. "I don't trust him," he finally confided. "I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, but I don't trust him. We go back, what's to stop him from shutting me up in Azkaban? I was a Death Eater, and I did things the Ministry deemed crimes. I _am_ a fugitive, and that would earn me an even harsher sentence."

"I won't let him arrest you," Hermione said defiantly.

He sat up, toss aside the blankets. "And how can you stop him?" he inquired. "For all we know, you're now an accessory. You helped me escape."

"I hadn't thought of that," she admitted, copying his posture. She gestured toward his wand, asking him to cast a silencing charm around them before their conversation continued. "What's to stop him from going to the Ministry here? He could have us extradited back to England."

But Draco disagreed. "It's like I said - Potter won't do anything to hurt you," he replied. "We stay here, continuing to live as muggles, and we're safe. We go back, there are plenty of other Aurors who wouldn't hesitate to arrest me on sight."

"Then we stay here," Hermione decided. "There's nothing for us there anyhow. I see no reason to go back."

With that decided, Draco lifted the charm, and the pair went to sleep.

The next morning, Clara was the first to wake. A feeling stirred within her, one that told her someone was coming. Harry Potter walked up the front path as she opened the front door. He gave her an inquisitive look, one that questioned whether or not she had permission to do so. But Clara Malfoy was in no mood. She stared pointedly as he asked to enter.

"No," she stated. Harry chuckled, but stayed on the porch. Her gray eyes were hard as she stared him down. "Are you going to arrest my mommy and daddy?"

He softened, bending to her height. "No, Clara, I'm not," he told her.

She held up a hand, pinky out. "Promise me," she demanded.

Harry linked his pinky with hers. "I promise you - I will never arrest your mummy and daddy."


	18. Chapter 18

Last chapter before the epilogue! Also, I don't know if this might alienate some readers, but I don't understand the point of reading a story you think is stupid. I received a review for another story that berated me for creating unnecessary drama (it's not unnecessary, it's the plot!), and that it was just stupid. Why would anyone waste their time and energy on something they think is stupid? I don't get it.

* * *

Chapter 17

"Do you think you'd ever consider coming back?" Harry asked over breakfast. The couple exchanged a questionable glance. "I just...the wedding is coming up, and you're my best friend, Hermione. I want you to be there."

Hermione groaned. "Harry, we've talked about this," she said, excusing Clara from the table. "Going back isn't in the cards. Please just let it go."

"But I promised Clara that nothing would happen to the two of you if you did," he pleaded. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

She dropped her fork, causing it to clatter against her plate. "I said enough," she replied through clenched teeth before excusing herself to check on Liam.

Harry attempted to keep her from leaving, but Hermione didn't listen. "I thought you would know better by now," Draco remarked as he began to clear the table. "She's not afraid of you. Hermione has never been afraid of you. What you've failed to consider is that you're the Head Auror and I'm a former Death Eater. We show up at your wedding, my wife and children will only see me on Sundays for an hour in a tiny, cramped visitation room. Or the cemetery. I'm not sure which is more likely."

Huffing, Harry sat back in his chair. "What if I could promise-"

"You can't," the blond interjected. "You can't guarantee that your coworkers would leave us alone. Tell me - is she considered a fugitive as well?"

Green eyes widened. That Hermione could be guilty of any crime had not occurred to the Auror. "No, and she won't be considered one," he said when he found his voice. "Ron and I are the only ones who know what's really happened, and we're certainly not filing charges against her. Does she...does she really think we would do that to her?"

Sighing, Draco hung his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "What I do know is this is the only family either one of us has, and she'll fight tooth and nail to keep from losing it. Going back means risking it all."

Harry conceded that he never considered that. "I'll go apologize to her," he mumbled. Turning on his heel, he made his way to the nursery. Liam had only just been moved there the night before, and Hermione had been worried about how the change would affect her son. "So, you think he slept through the night?"

Hermione snorted. "Not bloody likely," she remarked. "It'll be a long time before that happens. Clara was almost two by the time she started sleeping through the night." Harry chuckled, muttering something about excellent birth control, as he sat down. "Can I apologize?" she asked.

Dark brows pulled together. "What for?" he wondered. "I can't think of anything for you to be sorry for. I've been a jerk since I showed up here, and it hasn't been fair to either of you. I'm sorry, Mione."

She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you found us," she said. "I know I've said things - horrible things - but I'm glad you and Ron are here. And maybe it's possible to figure out a way to celebrate your wedding."

Smiling, he nodded in agreement and let go of her hand. She frowned when he informed her he would be returning home. "The wedding is next weekend. Ginny's got a mile-long list of things I still need to do," he told her. "I still haven't picked up my dress robes."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry hadn't changed a bit in the past five years, and there was something comforting in knowing that. He left soon after, and Draco joined her in the nursery. "I can't believe he's getting married," she commented. "Remember our wedding?"

A grin lit his eyes. "Every detail," he replied. He remembered everything from her simple white dress and the flowers in her hair. He could still recall their vows, word for word. He felt her lips upon his as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. The smile she wore told him she was thinking about that day as well. One thought bothered him though. "Do you want to go to the wedding?"

Hermione's smile fell. "No," she told him. "It's Harry and Ginny's day, and my return to the wizarding world shouldn't overshadow that in any way. Besides, I'm just not ready to face the Weasleys. Molly often hinted that Ron and I belonged together."

"Afraid you've disappointed her?" Draco wondered.

Sighing, she shook her head. "No, I don't care what she thinks of who I love," she replied. "I just hate having my decisions second guessed. Molly's a fan of doing just that. So much has changed in the last month, and I don't want to add any more stress to our lives."

"I've never been Potter's biggest fan, nor have I ever had the desire to get to know the Weasley family better, so you'll hear no argument from me," he stated. "Besides, I hate the idea of leaving the kids. We'll send a gift. Do we still have that toaster that Old Man Miller gave us when we got married?"

Hermione laughed as she stood to place Liam in his crib. "The one with the missing coil that never worked?" she replied. "I'm pretty sure I threw it away. It was a fire hazard."

A dramatic sigh passed his lips as he followed her from the nursery. "You need to start anticipating the moments when I might want to be a git to someone I used to dislike," he said. "Don't be a - what was it Clara called me the other day - a fun sponge."

Dark brows rose when Hermione spotted her daughter. "Someone's not getting dessert tonight," she said sternly. Clara guffawed while Draco held back a snicker. "Make that two someones."

"But Mom," Clara whined.

"Yeah, Mum," Draco added, sitting on the floor beside her.

Hermione shrugged, taking a seat on the sofa. "You tattled on her," she replied. "And you don't call your father, or anyone for that matter, names. Some apologies might be nice."

Both said they were sorry, albeit glumly. Hermione couldn't help but laugh as father and daughter contemplated the prospect of receiving no dessert later that night. Draco glared at his wife. "Are you adding insult to injury?" he inquired. "You take away our privileges and then laugh at us? What kind of person are you?"

Grinning, she rose and stood over him. "A very, very bad one," she murmured, kissing him. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Draco dragged her down to his lap, causing her to let out a startled cry.

"Marry me," he said.

The laughter stopped. "I already did," she reminded him.

"Do it again," he replied. "Marry me. Marry me as the real Hermione Granger."

Her hand caressed his stubbled jaw. "Yes," she said. "I'll marry you."


	19. Chapter 19

Last chapter! Thanks so much for reading!

* * *

Epilogue

Clara Malfoy stood between Platforms 9 and 10 in Kings Cross Station. "I have to walk through that?" she asked dubiously, staring at the thick brick column. "You realize that is physically impossible, don't you?"

"Not if you're a witch," Draco pointed out as he draped his arm around her shoulders. "Go on. Give it a try."

Against her better judgement, Clara took a deep breath, tightened her grip on the trolley, and ran straight at a solid brick wall with her eyes closed. She released a sigh of relief when she made it through with her parents and brother behind her. "Can we go again?" she asked, grinning.

Draco laughed, as he turned her attention to the scarlet steam engine waiting on the tracks. "A little less enthusiasm," he whispered in her ear. "You know Mummy's sad about you leaving."

Clara nodded, trying and failing to hide her excitement. "Do American children all go to Hogwarts?" she wondered as they searched for a less congested place to say their goodbyes.

"I think you're an exception," Hermione replied. "There are schools in the States, good ones at that. I'd imagine you were accepted to Hogwarts because you have British parents."

"Plus your mother helped save that school when it was under attack...several times," Draco added. "If there's no plaque in her honor, let me know. Heads will roll for this!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she pulled her daughter aside. She could feel eyes on her, and it made her uncomfortable. It was their first time returning to the wizarding world since the war ended, and there were many curious onlookers who wondered where Hermione Granger had gone.

"Listen, I know Daddy told you to be like me, but don't listen to him," she told her daughter. "You be you. Be smart and friendly and stay out of trouble. You don't have to be the best in your classes, or spend hours in the library. Just don't flunk out, and we'll be happy, no matter what. Although, we'll still love you if you have to say 'would you like fries with that?'"

That should have made the young girl laugh. Instead, she nervously chewed her lip. "What, um, what if this is the life I want?" she wondered. "You and Daddy raised us without using magic most of the time. I'm not complaining. I know you had your reasons. I just...what if being a full time witch is what I want?"

Hermione frowned. "Just because Daddy and I gave up that life doesn't mean we expect you or your brother to the do the same," she said. "All any parent wants is for their child to be happy. And shorter than them, but being happy is something we can actually accomplish. Whatever life you choose, you know you'll have our support."

"Thank you, Mommy," Clara whispered as she hugged her mother. They rejoined Draco and Liam, who were discussing the train that would soon take her away. He linked arms with his sister, resting his head on her shoulder. "We both know you're not going to miss me."

"Yeah, I will," he argued. "Who else is gonna get me out of trouble with Mom and Dad? Or listen to me complain about them? Or promise to hex Tommy Duncan when he picks on me?" Clara glared at him. "I wasn't supposed to say that in front of them, was I?"

Clara shook her head, letting him know that, in fact, that was supposed to remain a secret. A warning whistle sounded, and her heart beat faster. "Is this it?" she asked. "Do I have to go now?"

Draco put his arm around her shaking shoulders and held his little girl close. "Not yet," he murmured. "You stay right here with me for now. There's nothing to worry about, sweetheart. I know it can be scary to move someplace new, but Hogwarts will be an amazing experience. It's where your mum and I met, you know. Not that I want you meeting boys, but I guess I can't do anything to stop that. Just...be safe and write to us a lot. Don't get into trouble, stay out of the Forbidden Forest, and just...have fun."

Tears blurred her vision as she hugged her father. "I love you, Daddy," she murmured, wetting his shoulder. The final warning whistle sounded, and Clara pulled away to hug her mother and brother one last time. For the first time, Clara Malfoy boarded to the train to Hogwarts. Minutes later, her head appeared through an open window. "Hey, Li-Li, promise to send you a toilet seat like Uncle Ron said to do!"

"That man is not your uncle," Draco shouted back as Hermione chided her for vandalism.

The family of three stood on the platform, watching as the train began to pull away from the station. It was long gone by the time Liam cleared his throat to let his parents know they were the only ones there. "You're not going," Hermione told him, directing him to the platform's Apparation point. "In fact, after this year, she's not going back either. I'll teach them at home."

"You know that wouldn't be fair to them," Draco commented. "We can't hold onto them forever."

"But I want to," she mumbled as they Apparated home. The second her feet touched the floor, she went to Clara's room. The bed was unmade, clothes were strewn about the floor, and books cluttered any surface they could find. She left everything as she found it. Minutes passed before Draco found her there. "I haven't thought about it in years," she told him as he sat down on the bed, "but now I'm seeing it all again."

Though silent, he nodded in agreement. It had been over a decade since the war ended, but sending their eldest to Hogwarts refreshed old memories in their minds. Though they had dulled over time, they would never completely disappear. "I keep telling myself she won't face what we did," he said. "It helps, if only a little."

Hermione shrugged as she leaned against him. "I don't know. I remember a few good times," she replied. "I know it was a difficult year, but the hours we spent together in the library were some of my favorite times at Hogwarts. Just sitting and reading, or talking when you wanted to talk - those were some of the best memories I have. Even though I never want the kids to leave, I hope they make friends like Harry and Ron and you."

"I was awful to you," he pointed out.

Smiling, she shrugged. "Really? I don't remember that."

The End


End file.
